Little Swan
by Crystal-Nimrodel
Summary: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world will not allow this. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing:** None

**Beta**: Idhrenwen (1st chapter only)

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta:** None

**Cast:** Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer**: I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings._ All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline:** Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary:** After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 1

The young woman paled as she stood before her elders, awaiting their verdict. Silence reigned all around the room. Families waited with baited breath and every second seemed like a millennia. Slowly, one of the elders rose to his feet. He was thin, grey haired and looked as though he had not slept in weeks. Even the garments, which he wore seemed to drag downwards with exhaustion.

For a few seconds, the man exchanged a cold stare with the woman bound to the chair in front of him. Finally he spoke.

"Bricta, daughter of Owras. You stand accused of several counts of larceny, extortion and fraud. You shall now hear the verdict to be placed upon you." He turned to the fellow elders. "Have you reached a verdict?"

A younger man stood up, glaring at Bricta. Bricta returned the icy glance, her face paling with every second that went by.

"We have" said the man.

"And what is your decision?"

The man smiled grimly at Bricta, a glint of satisfaction wavering in his cold eyes.

"Guilty".

**"Mother!"**

A child, barely older than six ran forward after the seething crowd. Excitement and anticipation hung in the air like a fell stench and the slow moving crowd hummed and buzzed with morbid curiosity as they made their way to the cliff top. Still, the child ran on, pushing her way through, gradually getting nearer and nearer to the front.

"Mother!" she cried again, her voice silent against the excited cries of the people towering above her. Suddenly, her young eyes caught a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in an ivory gown, fluttering slightly in the breeze. Although the child could not see the figure's face, she still ran forward as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.

She finally reached the figure and tugged on the dress hard. The figure whipped around sharply, its chestnut hair flying in the wind. The child's face brightened immediately. "Mother!" Flinging herself forward, she wrapped herself securely around her mother's leg. Bending down, Bricta stroked her daughter's hair softly.

"Where are you going, mamma?" The child asked, staring upwards with frightened liquid brown eyes. Bricta fought back to keep the tears from flowing at her daughter's words. "I am afraid, Naelie, I will be going away for a while" said Bricta softly and finally succumbed to her tears.

"Don't cry, mamma" she said "We'll see each other soon"

Bricta hugged her daughter close to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Take care, while I am away, Naelie. Your father will look after you"

"But I don't want you to go."

"I know, little swan. But I promise, we will see each other soon"

Naelie wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Promise?" she stammered

Bricta nodded. "Promise".

Nealie nodded and slightly reluctantly withdrew from her mother's embrace. As soon as she let her child loose, Bricta was roughly shoved forward towards the edge of the cliff.

Strong arms lifted Naelie up and held her tight.

"Do not worry, little swan. Father will take care of you now."

A short man with a bald patch ambled up to Naelie and her father and spoke in a hushed voice.

"You had better be getting her out of here, Seòras" he said quietly. "Wouldn't want her to be here when the time comes."

Seòras changed a glance up to the cliff top. It was as though time had stood still. Even the birds flew no further. The wind ceased its whistling. Looking over her shoulder, Bricta caught her husband's eye and gave a weak smile of farewell. Seòras turned his head away. The grief weighed down too heavy upon his aching heart. To meet her eyes for more than that second would surely dissolve him into despair. For his daughter's sake, he knew he could not do so.

"Seòras? You need to go. Now."

Seòras nodded grimly to the man. Holding Naelie tight, he made his way back through the crowds towards their village.

"Bricta, daughter of Owras. You have been found guilty of counts of larceny, extortion and fraud. If you have a desire to speak, do so now."

Bricta stared at the executioner with the utmost revulsion and then cried out in a loud voice, so all around could hear.

"I tell ye, daughters and sons of the West. May you never lay claim to what is mine. Shall you do as such, a curse be placed on your household, ne'er to let your dead rest."

The crowd fell silent, then somebody gave a hollow laugh. Soon all surrounding the area were in uproar at Bricta's words. They spat on her. Mocked and called out to her. Ignoring their callous shouts, Bricta turned and made her way to the edge of the cliff where the executioner stood. At a silent nod from him, she laid herself down upon the rock at which he gestured at.

The taunts and jeers of the crowd still rang in her ears and she closed her eyes tight in an attempt to drown them out. She could not see it, but she could feel herself being tied down to the rock. The cords cut into her wrist causing her to twitch in suppressed pain. She would not give the leeches the benefit of seeing her weep. She was Bricta, daughter of Owras. Nay. She would never let them see her openly suffer. She refused to give them that satisfaction.

"Here you shall lay your last, Bricta daughter of Owras. May the Valar have mercy upon your soul."

Bricta lay still, the executioner's final words echoing inside her head. She knew what was coming. She had seen it occur all too many times before.

The executioner backed away from the cliff edge and retreated back down to where the crowd silently stood.

For over half an hour there came no sound. Only the sharp whistle of the wind and the sigh of the grass as it swept over them, could be heard. Suddenly, a piercing shriek rang down from the heavens. Its shrill screech rang through the air, turning every heart to ice with fear. The wind became more fierce with the threat of the oncoming inevitability.

Dull flapping of wings could be heard from far above where the crowd stood and watched with baited breath. With no warning whatsoever, an enormous creature descended from the murky clouds.

Its body was in likeness to that of an eagle but its size was over three times that of which an eagle should be. Its plumage glimmered with the dark colours of the night, it's wings shimmering as it made for the rock, upon which Bricta lay helpless.

The creature's eyes blazed silver as it focused in upon its prey, then anding silently upon the rock, it gazed upon Bricta with a ravenous glint in it's steely orbs. Bending low over her, it opened its silver hooked beak and buried it deep inside her living flesh.

Bricta cried out in pure agony, all dignity forgotten. She scrabbled frantically at her bonds, trying against hope to release herself, but no avail. The ebony creature continued to feed upon her, taking in everything. Clothing, muscle and bone were all devoured. Heedless to Bricta's cries and screams, it continued to feast upon her. It's once gleaming beak was now stained a poisonous red and finally it made the final strike.

Bricta ceased all vocal sounds and lay still upon the rock. Her life blood trickled down the grey stone, turning even the tips of the grass blades scarlet.

The crowd murmured to themselves. The show was over. Turning back down the hill, they made their way back to their homes, leaving the creature to finish its meal.

Gazing out of the window, Seòras felt salt water pricking at his eyes. The crowd was coming back and that could only mean one thing.

His wife and beloved, criminal or not, was dead. A heart-wrenching thought struck him. How could he ever bring himself to tell Nealie? She would never see her mother again. Finally succumbing to his grief, he buried his head in his arms and wept.

Finally, the fell creature flew off into the night, leaving nothing except a few tattered remnants of clothing flapping in the breeze.

He watched intently as the beast unfurled its ebony wings, taking care to keep out of sight, should the creature fly in his direction.

Once he was sure the bird creature had surely gone, he leapt deftly down from the branch upon which he had been perched. Shaking his head in disbelief at the horrific, brutal nature of the humans, the slim figure disappeared into the night, his fine silver hair fluttering behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 2

Barely two weeks had passed since Bricta's execution, yet Naelie appeared to be taking it extremely well. Almost too well, Seòras sometimes thought. She helped around the house, just as she had done before. Helping with the cooking, cleaning and preparing the medicines for sale. When she had been alive, Bricta had made it her personal duty to teach Naelie the uses of herbs and other such plants. Naelie only knew the basics of herbal medicine, but she still was a great help to her father.

Seòras smiled as he watched his tiny daughter working around the house. Many a time, she had dropped the wooden bowl used for preparing the plants as she was carrying it to him, for it was almost as big as her. But she would not be deterred or discouraged. She would simply stoop down and pick it up in her arms again. Hugging it tightly to her chest, she would stagger back across the floor, and then Seòras would catch her eye. She would then look up at him with shining green eyes and then break down in giggles when he grinned at her.

She was the best thing that had ever happened to Seòras. Naelie and Bricta were the only two people that had ever meant anything special to him, yet now, with Bricta gone, Seòras wanted more than ever to protect his daughter. That is what Bricta would have wanted him to do, and he vowed to himself, with all he had to do just that.

"Papa?"

Seòras looked down at where his daughter was smiling up at him, holding her hand out to him. He smiled back at her and bent down. "What do you have there, Naelie?" he asked curiously.

"I was moving the herbs when I found this seed" she explained. "Papa, do you think we could plant it outside" she stopped for a moment and continued. "So we can remember mama?"

Seòras gazed in astonishment at his daughter. It was truly incredible that Naelie had taken the news of her mother so well and without many tears. However, he had an idea of the reason why. When she had been around, Bricta had told Naelie about the stars. Every evening, mother and daughter used to sit by the fire and Bricta would tell Naelie a tale before sleep. Seòras remembered what happened one night very well indeed. It had been a clear evening with the stars and moon fully visible in the sky, a slight breeze blowing through the lands. Bricta had sat by the open window with her three year old daughter on her lap, mid-way through telling a story when Naelie had suddenly interrupted.

"Mama?" she had said, pointing out the window towards the stars that gleamed down upon them. "Mama, what are they?"

"They are stars, Naelie" he mother had replied. "And you know what?"

"What?" replied her daughter eagerly.

"All your family are there, Naelie. They all watch over you from those stars and protect you. So when ever you feel alone, just look up and you'll know they are smiling down on you, keeping you safe."

That tale had stuck with Naelie ever since. Even more than the tale of the wolf ambush on their village. More so than the tale of winter and the ice-goblin. "Yes" Seòras thought. "That will surely be why."

"Papa?"

Seòras jerked from his trance as he noted his daughter pulling on his sleeve. "Sorry, Naelie. Of course we can plant it. We'll plant it together and watch it grow".

With that, Naelie skipped happily outside, and Seòras followed.

Every morning after that, Naelie got up at the crack of dawn to water the plant and see if had grown anymore overnight. Over the next few weeks, the plant began to shoot up from the soil in which it had been planted, and soon it began to bloom. Pale blue flowers formed on the end of the stems like dewdrops, glistening on the morning grass.

Naelie devoted her mornings and evenings to the lone plant, and would often take one of her books out and sit with it, sometimes reading aloud to it as if it were one of her own family.

Seòras looked out the window from his morning chores and saw again, his daughter sitting by the plant, thoroughly enthralled in her rather battered, leather bound copy of "The Ice Goblin". He watched her read for a minute or so until she looked up, registered his eyes on her and waved cheerily at him.

Seòras waved back at his daughter, then retreated into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

--

"Papa?"

Seòras rolled over in his sleep and ignored the tiny voice in his head. But try as he might, it only grew louder and more persistent.

"Papa! Wake up! Papa!"

Seòras opened his eyes and stared blearily into the darkness. He blinked a few times in an attempt to regain focus and finally, he registered the small figure tugging at his nightshirt.

"Naelie? What?"

"Papa!" whispered his daughter urgently and pointed out the open window. "Papa! Fire!"

Seòras was suddenly wide-awake. He leapt out of bed, rushed to the window and peered out. "Sweet Valar" he murmured.

Outside, the small wooden houses were burning, shining gold and red against the ebony sky. The flames licked their rooftops and walls and finally fully devoured them, like a ravenous beast newly awakened from its slumber. The buildings crumbled into the ground and lay, still burning, still deadly to anyone who neared them. The flames spread all across the ground, taking crops and plants with it in their golden rage. Seòras heard the screams coming from the blazing buildings, of families trapped, unable to escape. He heard the heavy thuds of panicked footsteps, running blindly across the burning, dry ground in frantic attempts to reach safety.

Gruff shouts of triumph emitted from the centre of the village, and as Seòras strained his eyesight, he could make out the solid forms of the wild-men from beyond their village. Long had the hostility existed between the two villages, before Seòras himself had even been born. Smoke billowed from the ignited buildings and like a livid, golden serpent, the flickering flames began to creep towards Seòras' house.

Seòras shook himself violently from his lethargy and plunged back into the reality of what was happening all around him. He wasted no time. Grabbing his dagger and belt from the table he strapped them to his waist, then turned his full attention to his daughter. Bending down, he scooped Naelie up in his arms, put her over his shoulder and sprinted full pelt out of the door. He had only one thought on his mind, and that was to get Naelie to safety. Naelie did not protest against her father, for although she was terrified, she knew that while her father was around her, he would keep her safe.

Seòras ran as far as he could away from the course of the flames, but this was near impossible. Everywhere he ran, new flames would spring up and another house would collapse into ruins. The screams and heart-wrenching pleas for help grew ever louder, and their shrieks fell like the tolling bells upon Seòras' ears. Suddenly, a squeal of distress issued from his daughter.

"Naelie, what is it?" he called to her, still running.

"Papa!" she cried. "Mama's plant!"

Seòras looked back over his shoulder, just in time to see the creeping fire engulf the tiny, fragile plant. It was snuffed out in an instant, and Naelie's heartbroken sobs quickly followed. Seòras skidded to a halt, tears begin to course down his face as he watched their entire house go up in the overwhelming flames. Knowing that he had only a matter of minutes before he and his daughter would become one of the trapped, he turned and bolted.

Running blindly away from the fire, Seòras stumbled frequently. Discarded household items littered the ground, pieces of wooden furniture lay splintered and burned. Here and there, the charred and felled bodies of his fellows lay, spread-eagled out on the ground, their life and spirit wiped out in an instant. It took all his strength for Seòras to not stop and tend to the fallen, knowing that their bodies would be horribly mutilated by the time the wild-men discovered them.

As he passed the collapsed market stalls, Seòras tripped and almost fell onto his face, but grabbed wildly at a tree branch just in time to save himself from hitting the ground. Gathering himself together, he continued running with his daughter clinging to his shoulder in terror. Still running and panting, Seòras hardly noticed that he was leaving the helpless screams and crashing buildings behind him. All around him, the houses grew less and less dense until finally, he ran out into the open, fields his former village a distant, flickering golden blur. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, Seòras stood, his spare hand clutching his chest as it rose and fell heavily.

Suddenly, Seòras' ear picked up the thudding of heavily shod feet behind him. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw two wild-men pursing him, each wielding a blood splattered axe and grunting nefariously.

Seòras sped up his pace and his heart leapt as his eyes glimpsed the border fence in the distance. Naelie began wailing again as her eyes remained fixed on their pursuers. Seòras' heart ached terribly for her. He wanted to calm her, to ease her pain, but he knew that right now, it was not an option.

Finally, Seòras reached the fence and vaulted over it. He didn't look back, knowing all to well that time was not on his side.

The three figures ran across the open fields and dense grasses until in the distance, the gloomy outlines of trees upon the outskirts of the forest, loomed up out of the blackness to greet them. Seòras had always been wary of these woods. Tales had been told to him of their inhabitants before he could walk and talk. Even now, when extra firewood was needed, Seòras would only go to the forest's edge, never deeper. But now, he had no choice. Holding on to his last shreds of hope, he plunged forward into the tenebrous forest.

He heard the shouts and yells of his pursuers, still hot on his tail. The sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling, echoed through the murky trees. Suddenly, Seòras gave a cry as he tripped over an outgrowing tree root and fell forward onto soft mossy ground. Looking back, he felt a glimmer of hope, light in the dark corners of his heart. The base of the tree had grown so much that even in the darkness, Seòras could plainly see there was a decent sized gap between the roots, big enough for a grown man to lie comfortably inside. Finally, realisation dawned upon Seòras. If he did not get overcome his fear, his enemies would overcome both him and Naelie.

Putting Naelie down, he whispered to her urgently. "Hide yourself here, Naelie" he told her quickly and although terribly frightened, Naelie obeyed and slid underneath the base of the tree, out of sight.

"Stay there" he commanded her. "Papa will be back soon".

Naelie's head peeked out from the tree, her young face a mix of pure fear and sadness. "Don't leave me, Papa!" she begged.

Seòras bent down and kissed her head. "I have to. But I will be back soon. Now, go on. Hide yourself!"

"But-"

"Go!"

Naelie retreated back under the tree and crouched silently out of sight. She pulled her legs tight up to her chest and sobbed almost silently into them.

Outside, the beginnings of a downpour were appearing, and soon heavy raindrops splattered the leaf-strewn forest floor. Seòras gazed upon the tree base, tears making a new appearance. He unsheathed his dagger and turned to run in the direction of the wild-men's cries. Then he stopped, and looked once again at the tree.

"Be safe, my little swan" he whispered.

With that, Seòras turned and darted back through the trees, the rain thundering all around him as he ran. High above the woods and fields, the clouds darkened still and a flash of lightning illuminated the night sky.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 3

Seòras' feet pounded upon the mossy ground and as he ran, his heart hammered almost painfully inside his chest. The branches snapped as he hurtled through them, their sharp edges catching his skin as he went. As fast as he ran, the trees appeared to grow even taller, towering over his tiny figure in comparison below their majestic eminence. The falling rain lashed against his thin clothing, the water stinging as it made swift contact with his bare skin. His sodden hair clung to his face and head, yet still he kept running.

Suddenly, Seòras skidded to a halt as he heard a roar of triumph from somewhere in front. He stared intently forward through the dense, murky trees. The wind began to pick up outside the woods, but filtering through the trees, it only emitted a soft sigh as it curled itself around Seòras' form, then soared past him and carried on its winding journey through the woods.

Seòras stood, his hand slippery with sweat and fear, clutched tightly around the hilt of his dagger in anticipation. Finally, he hears the all to familiar thudding of heavily shod feet and all too soon, the two lumbering yet formidable wild-men crashed through the trees, just close enough for Seòras to view them properly in the dim light. Seòras' eyes fell on the axes he had seen briefly before. They were still splattered with blood, and undoubtedly had hewed many necks that night. They were still armed. Still deadly.

Neither party uttered a word, save for the wild-men you made low predatory sounds in their throats. They slowly began to circle each other, as was the custom for warfare with the wild-men. The balance of the fight was not equal, yet Seòras clung tightly to whatever hope he had left in his pounding heart.

They continued in this fashion for a many minute, each never leaving the gaze of the other. The brutal pair acted as one, each moving in sync with the other, and neither ever breaking eye-contact with Seòras. They saw the fire ignite in his deep brown eyes, but it did not deter them an inch.

Then, without any warning, the two wild-men lunged at Seòras with identical savage cries. The clink of metal on metal echoed through the trees as Seòras fought the unfair fight. His dark brown hair whipped against his face as he span and ducked to miss the devastating swings of the axes. Suddenly, he found himself pinned against a large oak, but came to his senses and rolled onto the floor, just as the axe smashed into the trunk with a sickening crunch, sending debris and splinters scattering and flying into the air.

Panting heavily, Seòras danced around the trees, trying in vain to avoid the double blows of the wild-men's swings. Raising his dagger, he took an estimated stab, but all he impaled was thin air. The harsh sounds of the wild-men's cruel laughter rang and echoed inside Seòras' head, yet Seòras still fought on. Then, he saw one of the wild-men lunge at him and swiftly stabbed forward with his weapon. A howl of white-hot pain escaped the wild-man's grimy throat as the dagger plunged deep into his thick flesh. Seòras heard with grim satisfaction, a ear splitting crack as the dagger splintered a rib. A further cry of distress issued from his victim's mouth, then he fell sideways and lay twitching on the ground, the dagger still embedded in his abdomen.

Seòras reached forward and yanked the dagger out. No sooner did he do so, a flood of scarlet liquid sprang forth and stained the wild-man's garments a poisonous red. Seòras barely had time to dwell on his victim, when a second shout came from behind him. He whipped round, dagger raised but this time he was not so lucky. The wild-man threw the boulder he was holding and sent it crashing into Seòras' body. Seòras was bowled across the ground until he smashed into a tree's base. He laid there, silent, eyes closed.

The wild-man bent over him, grunting as he did so. Finally he was convinced the boulder had done its work and backed away from Seòras' limp form. He retrieved his axe from the ground and stomped off into the woods in search of the child he had seen with the man.

Her father had been gone for over ten minutes, and Naelie was beginning to panic. But she stayed still, like Seòras had told her to. Suddenly, she heard thunderous footsteps as they stomped heavily across the forest floor. She curled herself tighter into a ball and prayed, that whoever it was, wouldn't find her. She shivered and trembled all over with fear as the footsteps got nearer, until she was on the verge of tears. She held them in though, for she knew they would give her location away.

Outside Naelie's hiding place, the wild-man was distinctly confused. He had seen the man run through in this direction with the child. But now, the child was no where to be seen. Then his small eyes fell on the space between the tree's roots and he crouched down to investigate.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the thick darkness underneath the tree, but no sooner had they done so, he caught sight of the tiny figure crouched inside.

Reaching forward a thick, hairy arm, the man grabbed hold of one of Naelie's legs and yanked her roughly out from her hiding place. In the split second that followed, Naelie jumped up and began to run as fast as her legs could carry her in the opposite direction. Reaching into his belt, the wild-man pulled out a long handled knife. Its hilt was made of leather, and the blade was sharp up to the very tip. One stroke from this weapon could tear even the toughest orc amour, let alone the flesh of his targeted victim.

The wild-man kept track of Naelie's movements for a few more seconds, then, without any warning, he flung the knife towards her. He had such skill that he aimed to miss. Instead of flying into Naelie herself, the knife pinned her to the nearest tree by her soiled nightgown. She struggled and tried to pull the knife out from the tree, but it was wedged in firmly.

The wild-man began his approach, and still making the predatory rumble in his throat he advanced upon Naelie, watching with sadistic amusement as she grew more and more fearful and panicky. She gazed up with large, frightened eyes at the monster leering down at her. He was so close, she could smell the rankness of his breath and the low rumbling noise from his throat. In one swift movement, he ripped Naelie from the tree, leaving a strip of her nightgown fluttering in the breeze, held fast by the knife. Then he grabbed Naelie, rolled onto the ground and pinned her by her arms.

Naelie screamed and fought against the wild-man's iron grip, but try as she might, her tiny fists and punches did not deter her attacker.

"You know what I'm going to do to you, little one?" he growled. "I'm going to carve your legs into little pieces. I'll rip out your flesh and take your voice from your throat". He smirked down at her, the bristles on his chin scratching at her pale, unblemished face. "And that's only the beginning. There's no-one left to save you now. Your father lies dead!"

He raised a second knife, this one even longer than the first and lowered it slowly down towards her kicking legs. Naelie screamed louder still and flailed against him, but she couldn't move an inch. Then, quite suddenly, he froze. His eyes blinked a couple of times, then he dropped the knife. It fell to the ground with a metallic thud, then the wild-man keeled over sideways, a feathered arrow protruding from his back.

Naelie's chest rose and fell as she recovered what breath she could, and lay still, in aftershock of the terror which she had just suffered. Then quite suddenly, she felt her vision going blurry and then blackness enveloped her as she passed out.

Two tall, lithe figures emerged out of the trees and hurried to the small child. One bent over her and checked her for signs of life. "It's alright, Orophin" he said. "She's breathing".

The other elf hurried to his companion's side and quickly checked her over for any injuries. "Remarkably, Beleril" he said in astonishment. "That beast didn't harm her at all."

"Save for her fainting" corrected Beleril.

"U'ma. But still, she seems unharmed"

Then, Naelie opened her eyes and slowly, she registered the two elves bending over her. She was so deep in shock that she could barely breathe, let alone speak. So, she just laid there, her eyes half open and gazing in wonder at the pair.

"Girl" began Orophin. "Can you hear me?"

Naelie didn't speak, but nodded vaguely in response.

"Can you tell us your name?"

Naelie wanted to. So badly she wanted to speak to these strangers, but she couldn't. Her voice and her brain seemed completely disjointed, as if they were no longer a part of her.

"She's in deep shock, Orophin" explained Beleril. "I would be surprised if she says anything for a while"

Orophin nodded and was about to stand up again, when Naelie uttered two single words.

"Papa. Dead".

"What did she say?" asked Orophin hurriedly to Beleril.

Beleril sat in silence, his eyes wide. "How could they?" he murmured.

"What?"

"She said they killed her father" he said solemnly, his head bowed in grief.

After saying these two words, Naelie found her voice again and dissolved into heart wrenching sobs. The two elves looked at each other, neither sure of what to do. Going with his gut instinct, Beleril reached forward and put his arms round Naelie and cradled her like he would a distressed elfling. She hugged him tighter and sobbed into his tunic, while Orophin looked on helplessly. Give them legions of orcs, they would cope. Give them wolf ambushes. No problem. Give them a distressed human child who just lost her father. Valar help them!

Finally, Naelie's sobs grew quieter and softer until she could cry no more. Sensing this, Beleril eased her from him, and gazed down at her, concern and pity reflected in his grey eyes.

"Will you tell us your name?" he asked her kindly.

"Naelie" she replied, tears still glistening in her liquid brown eyes.

Beleril looked up at Orophin, a slightly intrigued expression on his face. "I'm no expert on human names" he said. "But doesn't that mean 'swan-like'?"

Orophin shrugged. "It could do. Ask Haldir, he knows more than I do. But Beleril, what are we going to do with her?"

"Well, we can't leave her out her, that's plain" Beleril replied.

"Let me come".

The two elves looked back down at Naelie and Beleril smiled. "Will you come with us then, if we ask?"

Naelie nodded and almost started weeping again. "I have nowhere to go, so if you'll let me come, I will".

Orophin looked at Beleril, his expression difficult to read. "Bel, if we take her with us, you know what will happen".

"But she's only a child, Orophin" argued Beleril. "They surely cannot shun her for that".

"I suppose" mused Orophin. "But remember, there are those around us that will not welcome her presence."

"Well, that's their problem" snapped Beleril. Orophin stopped, startled by his friend's outburst.

"I'm sorry, Orophin" apologised Beleril. "But we must take her with us. There is no other way, and I will not leave her out her, alone and vulnerable."

"Alright" Orophin agreed. "You take her, she seems to like you anyway. I'll clear up here."

Beleril nodded and picked up Naelie in his arms where she put her arms around his neck and clung tightly. "Make sure to bury him properly" reminded Beleril motioning to the corpse of the wild-man.

"I know, Bel" replied Orophin, sighing.

--

Hours had passed since Naelie had been found, and morning's light could just be seen breaking through the clouds and waking the world gently with its golden rays.

A hunched figure crawled through the foliage towards the very area where Naelie had been attacked. His thin clothing was tattered and torn, he had a deep gash on his right leg and was having immense difficulty breathing. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as he neared the tree which Naelie had hidden under.

Suddenly, a ray of light filtered through the trees and caught his face. He was pale as death and his dark brown hair hung limply around his bruised face. It was Seòras.

"Naelie" he tried to call, his voice barely a whisper. He crawled to the tree and peered under, hoping against hope that his daughter would be there still. Upon seeing the emptiness, his heart sank further with sadness and grief.

Then he saw the knife sticking out the tree, and pinned by it was the tiny shred of Naelie's nightgown.

"NAELIE!" Seòras yelled, his voice grazing against the raw pain in his throat. He staggered towards the tree and yanked out the knife. The shred of Naelie's nightgown fluttered into his open palm and he fell to his knees, weeping openly. It caused him pain to cry, it caused him torture not to. As his tears came in torrents, he clutched the tiny piece of material tight to his chest, and then finally, grief overcame him. He curled up into a ball on the ground, and shook violently as he wept.

"Oh, Naelie" he sobbed. "I-I failed you. I'm s-so sorry!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Bricta and Beleril who are from my own imagination and therefore are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 4

Beleril slowly ascended the steps towards Celeborn and Galadriel's talan. He knew that ordinarily, humans were not permitted into their realm unless injured or seeking the service of the Lord and Lady. But still, Beleril argued with himself, they could not turn her away. The idea was absurd, not to mention wholly cruel and heartless to do so. She was only a child, a child cruelly ripped from her family and completely alone. He glanced up at Naelie, her arms still around his neck, and noticed that miraculously she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled fleetingly at her peaceful face and carried on towards the talan.

Finally, he reached the door of his Lord and Lady's quarters and he stood completely still. His heart was pounding against his chest, and yet he did not know why. He knew by knocking on the door, he would have to present the child to the Lord and Lady, and then she would be subject to their judgement. He shook himself violently and harshly criticised his thoughts. He was being stupid. They would not turn her away. They couldn't, it wasn't possible. Before he realised what he was doing, Beleril steadied Naelie, raised his other hand slightly, and knocked on the door.

"Beleril?"

It was Celeborn that answered. He gazed down at one of his warriors with supreme curiosity and concern as his eyes fell on the sleeping human child in his arms.

"My Lord". Beleril bowed as best he could and Celeborn, sighing, beckoned him inside.

"I suggest you lay her down there" said Celeborn, gesturing at his bed on the far side of the room.

Beleril did so and was thoroughly relieved when she did not wake.

"Please, sit". Celeborn said indicating the two vacant chairs by the table and window.

Beleril sat, wringing his hands in his lap in such a state of nervousness, that even he could not explain it.

Celeborn walked briskly over to the sideboard and poured himself a small glass of elderflower wine, a delicacy in beverages for Lorien. He offered a glass to Beleril, who refused politely. Celeborn took the second vacant seat and studied Beleril for a few seconds, not long, but long enough to cause the young elf to become even more anxious. Celeborn took another sip of wine, replaced his goblet on the nearest table, and surveyed the young elf through deep grey and wise eyes.

"I find, Beleril" he began. "That it is always best to speak like the stream, not the flood".

"I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, my lord" said Beleril apologetically.

"I mean, that tell me slowly what happened, rather than hurrying like the wind. It will make your heart feel lighter that way."

Beleril nodded, taken aback slightly by his lord's words. For he had indeed been preparing his words to gush out in a hurry, for he had felt that no time should be wasted to pause. But now, after hearing Celeborn's advice, he took a deep breath and began.

"My lord, Orophin and I were out in the woods, a little way from the borders and the rest of the guards, when we heard a distressed cry. We followed the sound swiftly, and soon we came to a small clearing in the trees."

Beleril stopped suddenly, his remembrance of what the child had suffered shown clearly on his face.

"Take your time" said the elven lord gently. "Continue when you are ready".

A minute or so later, Beleril gathered himself together and continued.

"In this clearing, we witnessed the attack on this young girl. She was roughly pinned against a tree by what looked like a northern wildman. But we noticed that she was in fact pinned by a knife that was holding her by her garments to the trunk."

Celeborn's eyes widened in horror at this remark, for as well as being ages old and with the wisdom to prove it, he also knew the full extent of the vicious and bloodthirsty nature of the wildmen. He nodded at Beleril to continue his testimony.

"It would seem that we were there at the right moment, my lord" continued Beleril. "Orophin felled the wildman with his bow and both of us hurried to see if the child was still alive. Remarkably, she was unharmed except for a few small scratches, presumably from where she had fallen".

Beleril faltered again, his grey eyes drifting to glance again at the bed and at Naelie's sleeping and fragile form.

"She has no family then?"

Beleril looked back quickly at Celeborn, surprise obvious in his face. "How did you – "

"There would be no other reason for you to bring her here unless she was grievously injured, which I can see she is not" explained Celeborn.

Beleril bowed his head and nodded. "Yes. She tells us her father was killed".

"And the mother?"

"The child told us she had no-one, so one can only assume that means the mother is dead also".

With a sigh, Celeborn rose and wandered over to the open window, holding his goblet in his hand. Beleril's gaze remained fixed on his lord, even if Celeborn was not facing him. Celeborn stood silent for a few moments, then after another sip of wine, he turned back to Beleril.

"It would seem that we have no other choice. The child is to remain here with us; however, I feel it would be more appropriate if she were housed with an elleth".

Beleril's heart sank and he gazed down at his feet as though transfixed by them. It was strange indeed, but for such a short time, the young elf had taken an extraordinary liking to the child. He mentally berated himself for even thinking that it would have even been a possibility for Naelie to be housed with him.

"However -" said Celeborn again.

At this, Beleril's head snapped up and his heart rose in false hope again.

"She will need somewhere to stay for tonight" continued Celeborn. "And since you are the only one she knows at the moment, I think it would be best if she stayed in your talan for the night."

Beleril's heart did a back flip and a somersault at his lord's words. He didn't care how odd it was that he suddenly cared so much for this human child whom he had only met less than an hour ago. He did not care, at least for now that he would only be able to look after her for a night and a day. If he had been able, Beleril would have danced around his lord's talan on account of the joy that was flooding through him.

But he didn't.

On the contrary he remained completely composed and nodded solemnly. "If that is your wish, my lord" Beleril replied. "Then I have no qualms".

Celeborn smiled at the young elf. "I will try and find a more suitable housing arrangement for the child by tomorrow" continued the elven lord. "Until then, she will be in you care. Now, may I suggest you return to your talan. Elbereth knows you look worn indeed."

Beleril could not help but smile at this remark. He rose from his seat, made his way over to the bed, and picked up Naelie in his arms again. She stirred slightly, but thankfully did not wake.

"Good night then, my lord" said Beleril, bowing as best he could.

"Good night Beleril" replied Celeborn with nod and a smile.

Closing the door quietly behind him, Beleril made his way back through Lorien to his own talan. Mercifully, it was not far so he was spared having to ask questions as to why he was carrying a human child around the woods in the dead of night. As he went, Beleril felt the warm glow of happiness enveloping him and as he walked, he would not have been surprised if his feet had had wings.

Soon, Beleril reached his talan, and with little ease, he bent down and opened the door. He could only open the door slightly as his hand had to return to steady Naelie and prevent her from falling. Lifting his foot, he kicked the door gently and it swung open further, enough for him to slip in without having to put the child on the floor. He made his way into his room on the opposite side of the talan, whilst trying his best not to knock into anything in the dark and wake her.

Eventually, he reached his bed and gently, he pulled back the soft sheets and laid the sleeping Naelie onto the mattress. Tucking the material around her, he laid her head back against the downy pillows and watched as she slept on.

A minute or so later, Beleril left Naelie and carefully made his way back into the main room. Taking a match, he lit the half melted candle on his table and although the flickering quality of the newly-lit candle was not immense in power, it gave Beleril enough to see by.

On the whole, his talan was fairly neat and tidy. There were a few garments hung over the arms of chairs and various weapons for border duty standing against the walls, but apart from that, his talan was respectable. It looked, as he generally called it, "lived in".

His eyes fell upon the remnants of his mid-day meal on the table which he had neglected to clear away. Yawning, he gathered up the goblet and plate and deposited them in the sink. Because of his changing shift work at the borders, Beleril's talan was one that had its own kitchen in order for him to make his own meals should he ever need to. He washed up quickly and put the crockery back in its cupboards.

By now, his eyes were itching with tiredness and there was still the problem of where he would sleep. Deciding that the couch may be the best option, he gathered up the rug that lay over the top and laid it as a blanket and arranged two of the larger cushions as substitute pillows. He then crossed over to the laundry rail and selected a white night garment. He stripped out of his tunic and pants quickly and pulled the pale material over his head.

He laid himself down on the couch, which he found was surprisingly comfortable as a make-shift bed, and pulled the rug over him with a content and happy sigh. So tired was he, that he fell into slumber as soon as his head hit the cushions.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

_Replies to Reviewers:_

MarySuesREvil - Why, thank you! Based on the legend of Prometheus? Actually, this story just started with me wanting to write something gory for a nice change and went from there. To be honest, I hadn't noticed the similarities until you mentioned it. Interesting indeed! :) Here. Have a muffin.

FlyingHampsterOfDoom - Many thanks to you and a freshly baked muffin. :)

leggylover4ever - I agree completely with you. The punishment **should **fit the crime. However, these people are brutal and callous. Thanks for your comment. (Gives you a muffin)

**NB: As regards the conversations between Naelie and the elves, and the concept of her speaking Sindarin or them speaking Westron - I know it doesn't hold water. Fact is, I'm lazy when it comes down to things like that and the prospect of either thinking up a reason why they can understand each other or writing many chapters in which they learn to understand each other, whilst entertaining to read, is a heck of a job to write. Frankly, I prefer getting on with the story without bothering about nitty-gritty details. Don't get me wrong here, I enjoy writing many details, but I'm just lazy when it comes to things like that. Don't hurt me! However, if you, as the reader, wish to think up a way in which they could understand each other, or "fill-in the-gaps", so to speak, that's perfectly fine. :) **

**Okay, so I rambled a little there. Please, forgive me and enjoy chapter five! **

Chapter 5

The glittering rays of the morning sun streamed through Beleril's window and pooled over his cushion, causing his silver hair to shimmer in the virgin light. Silence reigned throughout the talan, save for the sweet melody of two young sparrows that had recently taken up residence just outside Beleril's window. The heavenly scent of fresh dew hung delicately in the air, and soon, the sleeping young elf was stirred gently from his reverie.

Yawning and stretching, he pushed the rug aside and scrambled off the couch to greet the new day. Barefoot, he padded silently across the talan floor in search of something light to satisfy the hunger that had suddenly crept up upon him. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he unearthed a small loaf of bread, bought but a day ago from the market. He discovered also two crimson apples and set about peeling them. Unusual though it was for elves to peel their fruit, Beleril found that he preferred it that way. He disliked the way the skin of the apple frequently would get caught in-between his teeth, and so had made a solemn promise to himself that he would peel his fruit whenever possible.

Once, peeled, Beleril sliced both apples up into halves, cut himself a slice of the soft granary bread, which he buttered lightly then sat down at the table to eat. Looking down as he finished his meal, he discovered that he had a handful of breadcrumbs left. He scooped up the crumbs and made his way outside.

The nest in question had just been re-furnished. A neat cluster of twigs and leaves lay about the delicate structure and from the earthy smell that still clung to them, and Beleril guessed that the twigs had fallen from the trees within the last day or so. Smiling down at the nest, he saw the now familiar sight of three perfectly formed eggs, pearly white in colour, lightly flecked with specks of brown. It seemed the mother had left the nest to go and find nourishment for herself, but Beleril knew she would not be gone long. Although she appeared to trust the elves and the environment, her natural maternal instincts made sure she would soon return to her eggs.

Settling himself down on the small stone bench outside his door, Beleril sat and listened to the sounds of the dawn. The loving breeze caressed his cheeks as it made its never ending journey through the trees. His acute ears picked up the sounds of other birds chirruping and singing far above his head whilst from somewhere in the trees, the gentle sound of a brook could be heard, its waters flowing smooth across the stones then gurgling and babbling as it made its way towards the larger Nimrodel and onto the mighty Anduin.

A short chirrup above him made him raise his head in gladness. Sure enough, the mother sparrow had returned, looking remarkably well fed. She was perched upon a twiggy outcrop of the tiny nest and as he looked up, she fixed the young elf with a bright yellow eye that twinkled with knowledge. He stood up slowly and made his way toward the nest, causing the female to hop and skip across the twigs and settle herself protectively on her brood.

"I see you have been enjoying a well earned breakfast" he said softly. "And quite rightly too".

The female gave a short twitter in response then suddenly became very interested in Beleril's hand. She fixed his closed palm with a curious stare and began to chirrup excitedly, bobbing up and down as she did so.

Beleril let out a bell-like laugh and winked at the bird. "I see my secret is not so secret any longer" he chuckled and held out his hand, revealing the bread crumbs inside.

The mother sparrow cocked her head to one side as though considering the matter, then hopped lightly into Beleril's open palm. She pecked gently at the breadcrumbs, taking care not to pinch the elf's skin with her beak. Beleril gazed fondly down at the fragile creature standing in his open hand and couldn't help but wonder if her young would grow up to be as trusting as their mother.

Finally, she finished her meal and paused for a few seconds to clean herself up. Then, with a thankful whistle, the mother jumped back into her nest again, settling herself once more upon the small clutch of eggs. She snuggled down on top, ruffling her freshly preened feathers as she did so and closed her eyes, ready for a long nap.

After dusting the remaining crumbs off on his nightshirt, Beleril sauntered back inside his talan. Taking care to make certain his footfalls were silent, he peered around his bedroom door. Yes. She was still sleeping. Her short, curly hair was the deepest shade of mahogany and as she slept, a peaceful smile remained on her young face. Beleril sighed. In sleep she was far away from troublesome thoughts and the loss of her father. And yet, soon she would have to wake and her mind would be flooded with pain and anguish again.

He retreated from the bedroom door and made his way to his bathroom. It was something that someone so young should never have to face. The loss of one parent was tragic enough, but the loss of both was surely devastating. He filled the basin with fresh water and scooped some into his cupped palms. The water was icy to the touch, and all it took was a swift splash of the cold water upon his face to fully wake and refresh him. Reaching for the rail beside the basin, Beleril dabbed at his dripping face with a towel and then set about preening the rest of himself.

Minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom and walked quietly back into his own bedroom, where Naelie slept on. He retrieved a set of clean garments from his drawers and then left, taking care to close the door behind him. He then returned to the bathroom to dress and make his slightly tousled hair look presentable.

The early hours trickled by and Beleril settled himself at the table with a pair of leggings and some wool. It was a darning job he had been meaning to get done for some days, and somehow had never got around to it. As of yet, he did not know what he was going to do about border duty. He couldn't leave Naelie on her own, that was obvious. Also, if Celeborn decided to drop by to give him any news of a more permanent housing arrangement, he would need to be there. Surely Haldir would understand.

As he was finishing fixing a hole in the left leg, the sound of a door opening was heard. Beleril looked up to see Naelie standing in the doorframe, looking up at him with bright, wide-awake eyes.

"Ah, little one" he said kindly. "I see you are awake at last".

Naelie nodded.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nodded again, and then added. "Yes, thank you mister. Excuse me, but do you have a bathroom I could use?"

Beleril was take aback by the range of the child's vocabulary for one so young. Still, he nodded and pointed to the closed door. "Yes, it's right there" he replied. "If you want to wash, there is a bucket of water by the basin and a fresh cloth on the rail".

Naelie smiled gratefully at him and made her way to the bathroom. "Thank you mister" she said as she disappeared.

Beleril sat still, taken completely by surprise. He knew he was stupid to have thought she wouldn't be able to string sentences together, but he guessed it must have something to do with the fact that he was rarely around children. Shaking his head, he got on with mending the second leg.

Eventually, Beleril finished the leggings and set them aside to be put away properly later. Pleased with his work, he moved away from the table and began to boil a pan of water. Reaching into the wicker basket beside the sink, he pulled out a ripe lemon, cut a slice and then grabbed a mug and a porcelain pot from the cupboard. Taking the lid off the pot, he took out a pinch of the tea leaves that were inside and sprinkled them into the mug. He replaced the pot and then stood waiting for the water to finish boiling.

He sat down at last to drink his lemon tea when there came a sharp knock at the door. "Oh wonderful" he thought to himself. "I knew my absence at the border would not go unnoticed for long"

Striding forward, he opened the door. "Good morning Hal- Oh!"

Standing in the doorframe was Lord Celeborn and Beleril suddenly felt quite foolish. "Good morning, my lord" he said, placing a hand on his breast in respect.

"Good morning, Beleril" replied Celeborn pleasantly. "May I come in?"

"Of course" replied Beleril, stepping aside to allow his lord entry.

Celeborn stepped over the threshold and as soon as Beleril had closed the door, he began to talk. "Is she still asleep?" he asked.

"Nay" answered Beleril. "She is washing now".

"Then I'll be brief" said Celeborn. "I have spent the hours since we last talked attempting to find a more suitable housing arrangement and so far, with little success. I have spoken to Tániel and Alina, both experienced mothers, but however they say that they would not be able to house the child. However, I will ask others and I shall keep you informed. Meanwhile, I brought this."

He held out a small silver-grey dress which Beleril took.

"It used to belong to one of Tániel's daughters, but she has long since grown up and it was lying discarded in one of her wardrobes. She told me that although she cannot house Naelie, she still wished to help in some way".

"Thank her for me" said Beleril gratefully.

"Oh, I already did that" smiled Celeborn. "I'll have a hunt round; see if I can find any other clothes for the child. If she is going to be staying in Lorien for some time, she will need some of her own".

Beleril nodded in agreement. "Thank you my lord. You are right, she will need suitable garments."

"It is my pleasure, Beleril" replied the elven lord. "I suggest you forego border duty for today. I'll have Finwyn fill in your position".

"That is most gracious of you, my lord" smiled Beleril.

"Well, for the child's sake, I deemed it necessary for someone to watch her" said Celeborn simply. "I will take my leave now, Beleril" he continued. "Let me know if you need anything".

"I will, and thank you my lord" said Beleril finally with a bow.

Celeborn nodded and retreated out of Beleril's talan.

"It is a very pretty dress, mister" said Naelie, looking her reflection over in the mirror.

"Yes" agreed Beleril, smiling. "It is".

Only mere seconds after Celeborn had gone, Naelie had returned from the bathroom. Beleril had shown her the dress that he had given him and Naelie had been delighted with it. She had all but skipped back to the bathroom to change into it and when she had returned, she was beaming all over her face.

"I think" said Beleril finally. "We should teach you my proper name".

Naelie looked up. "Alright" she said. "What is your name?"

"I am called Beleril" he said, suddenly astounded he had not told her this before.

"Beel-her-hil" said Naelie, trying out the new name on her tongue.

"Bel-err-ril" he repeated, putting more emphasis on the syllables.

"Bel-herr-rill" she tried again.

"Close enough" he smiled. "Now, I need to get some work done, so you'll have to amuse yourself for a while".

Naelie nodded. "Do you have any parchment?" she asked meekly.

"Why, yes I do" he replied.

"And do you have any charcoal?" she asked, even quieter this time.

Beleril thought for a moment. Did he have any? His eyes fell on the cedar box he kept his writing materials in. Going over to it, he rummaged through it and to his surprise, unearthed a small lump of charcoal. Taking both that and a sheet of parchment out of the box, he handed them to Naelie.

Naelie grinned up at him. "Thank you, Bel-herr-rill". With that she walked over to the table and sat down on one of the lower chairs. Taking up the charcoal, she began to scribble upon the parchment. Beleril watched her interestedly for a moment, and then settled down on the couch to flick through the novel he had been assigned to read in its entirety and check thoroughly for errors.

Half an hour passed, and both elf and child were still heavily into their chosen occupations when there came a second knock at the door. Beleril looked up from the page he was reading, put the book down on the couch and made his way over to the door. It was not Celeborn that stood there, nor was it Haldir.

It was Orophin.

"Good day to you, Beleril" he beamed, striding in past his friend.

"Please do come in, Orophin!" smirked Beleril at the now empty doorframe.

Orophin turned to face Beleril, looking remarkably well disposed towards life.

"Today, dear Bel!" he said, clapping Beleril on the shoulder. "Is a day that will go down in the history books for all time. It is a day never to be repeated, and of such rarity, I think it should be made a national holiday".

"Why?" said Beleril, completely confused. "What has happened?"

"Haldir is skiving border duty" said Orophin with a chuckle.

"What?"

"I know! Great isn't it?"

"It's incredible" replied Beleril, not daring to believe it. "Why is he skiving it?"

"Well" said Orophin, moving Beleril's book and sitting down on the couch. "He actually says that Rumil and I need extra sword training and has volunteered himself to help. Now we all know that Rumil and I do not need extra training of any kind, so there are only two possible explanations".

"Which are?" prompted Beleril.

"Number one" said Orophin, putting up a finger. "He got lucky with an elleth last night and is too tired to go". He put up a second finger. "Or, he got horribly soused, and again, can't be bothered to go".

Beleril considered this for a moment. "They both sound equally plausible" he said finally.

"True" said Orophin, cocking his head in thought. "But never you fear, Bel. Rumil and I will have forced the truth out of him by the end of the day".

"Good luck to you with that!" said Beleril.

"So, why aren't you on border duty?" continued Orophin.

Beleril blinked. Was Orophin completely clueless? "I am looking after Naelie" he said.

"Who?"

Beleril jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where Naelie was still scribbling, apparently not too interested in the two elves' conversation.

"Oh" said Orophin, suddenly realising, then he dropped his voice. "How is she doing?"

"Fine" answered Beleril. "She's drawing right now".

Orophin suddenly looked interested. "Can I talk with her?"

"If you like" replied Beleril with a smile.

Orophin nodded and made to get up off the couch when suddenly two heads poked around Beleril's open door.

"Thought we'd find you here!" grinned Rumil.

"Congratulations, dear brothers, but I did not know this was a game of hide-and-seek"

Haldir rolled his eyes. "Just hurry up. We need to be down at the archery fields in two minutes".

Orophin sighed and stood up. "Alright, alright, don't fuss".

With that, Orophin departed the talan. "I'll be back in a few minutes" he called over his shoulder.

"Good!" replied Haldir, irritably.

Naelie looked up from her parchment, now quite interested in the sudden arrival of the two brothers, but stayed quiet.

Haldir made his way over to Beleril and spoke in a hushed voice. "Orophin told me what happened last night. Where is she, Bel? How is she faring?"

Beleril sighed inwardly. He was seriously beginning to wonder if the elves of Lorien were quite blind. As had been with Orophin, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to which Haldir looked in the direction and nodded. "She seems to be bearing up remarkably well" he said. "Mind if I talk with her?"

"Not at all" said Beleril. "Be my guest".

Haldir smiled and made his way over to where Naelie was seated, while Beleril turned his attention to the younger brother. "Tea, Rumil?"

"What?" Rumil was suddenly jerked from his stupor. "Oh, no thanks, Bel. As soon as that dratted brother of mine gets back here, we have to be going".

"OK that's fine" smiled Beleril. "Mind if I do?"

Rumil shook his fair head good naturedly. "Course not" he replied.

As Haldir approached, Naelie looked up and the apprehension in her eyes must have shown, because Haldir sat down slowly on the chair beside her and looked with interest at her drawing.

"What are you drawing, little one?" he asked gently.

"Bel-herr-rill" she said smiling.

"Bel-herr-rill?" Haldir repeated her reply in his head, then it clicked. "Oh, I see" he said. "You are drawing Beleril?"

Naelie nodded and pushed the drawing across the table slightly so Haldir could see it better.

"This is very good" remarked Haldir looking over the charcoal drawing, receiving a grateful smile from Naelie.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Naelie" she replied.

"Naelie" he repeated. "That is a pretty name".

"Thank you" she said. "What is yours?"

"My what?" asked Haldir.

"Your name, mister" she repeated. "What is your name?"

"Oh, I am called Haldir" he told her.

"That means 'tall one'" Naelie said.

Haldir's eyes widened slightly. "Yes, it does" he replied, somewhat taken aback. "How did you know that?"

"My mother taught me some basic meanings of your language" she explained. "I cannot speak it, but I know some bits".

Haldir smiled in surprise at Naelie. "Your mother was a good teacher then?" he asked.

"Yes" she replied. "She taught me almost everything I know and told me about the stars".

"The stars?" asked Haldir, curious.

"She told me that all my family live there and watch over us, protecting us" explained Naelie. "Mama and Papa are up there now. I know they are".

Haldir was amazed at the knowledge that Naelie knew. As had been with Beleril, he had not expected one so young to know so much, and yet she did.

"Right!" came a voice from the doorway. "I am back, Haldir!"

Haldir looked up to see Orophin had returned now dressed in his archery attire.

"Good" said Haldir, getting up. Looking back at Naelie, he said. "It was very nice to meet you, pen-neth" he said, smiling down at her.

"You too, Haldir" she said, having no difficulty with his name.

Haldir retrieved his bow from the doorway and swung his quiver over his shoulders. "Okay, let's get going before the sun sets!" he smirked at his two brothers.

About half an hour after Haldir and his brothers had gone, Naelie approached Beleril with her finished drawing and gave it to him. "For you" she said.

Beleril looked up from his remarkably dire book and took the parchment from her with a curious smile and said "What is this then?"

Naelie just grinned and watched attentively while he looked at her drawing. It was a picture of an elf dressed in a tunic, leggings and boots and holding a book. It was a child-like sketch to be sure, but still Beleril felt like he might weep slightly at the kind gesture. Beside the sketch, she had written the word 'Bel'.

"That is what I heard your friends calling you" she said. "May I call you that one day too when you are my friend?"

Beleril laughed lightly. "Why, I already am your friend, Naelie" he said. "And of course you may call me that if you wish".

A broad smile spread across the Naelie's face and she skipped off to the bathroom to clean her hands, leaving Beleril with the picture.

When she came back, Beleril was once more reading the book, which was proving to be uphill work. She walked over to him and sat down on the rug and began playing with one of the tassels.

"How long have you lived here, Bel?" she asked.

Glad for any excuse to stop reading, Beleril put the book aside and turned his attention to the child sitting on the floor in front of him. "All my life, Naelie" he replied.

"Where are your family?"

Beleril sighed then remembered what he had overheard heard Naelie say to Haldir. "They are in the stars" he said simply.

Naelie looked up. "I am sorry" she said quietly.

Beleril shook his head. "Don't be" he replied. "I do not mind your asking".

Naelie went back to the tassel but continued speaking. "It is beautiful here" she said. "Even more than where I used to live".

"Thank you" said Beleril. "I am very fond of Lorien myself. Infact, I have a little spare time…" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "How would you like to see more of it?"

Naelie looked up again, her deep brown eyes shining with glee. "Really?" she said excitedly. "Would you show me?"

Beleril nodded. "I don't see why not". He looked out of the window. "It is not cold out" he continued. "So I expect you'll be warm enough in your dress".

Naelie grinned and followed Beleril to the door. "Ladies first" he said graciously, opening the door for her. She laughed and walked out the talan, Beleril following behind her.

They wandered beneath the trees, Naelie taking care to keep close to Beleril. Occasionally, an elf or two would pass them by and regard Naelie with a smile or a curious glance. Beleril was always astounded at how fast word in Lorien travelled. He showed Naelie around the grounds of Lorien including the rose gardens and then decided to show her the one place he loved to visit the most.

They passed through into a clearing where a pool of water lay, a small waterfall tumbling down the hill above into the depths of the crystal clear pool. The grass and flora grew lush and plentiful here and beside the water, a lone willow tree stood, its branches skimming the surface while the breeze danced skilfully in-between the leaves. Far above them, the sound of birds singing could be heard and the dappled rays of the midday sun shimmered and played upon the still waters.

"This is my favourite place in the world" he said quietly. "Often, when I just want to be alone, I come down here and just sit, listening."

"Listening to what?" asked Naelie.

"Silence" replied Beleril with a content sigh.

Naelie couldn't help but be confused by Beleril's reply, but she shrugged it off and continued to gaze round at the utopia of nature that surrounded her. "I can see why you love this place" she said looking up at Beleril.

"I'm glad you like it" he said, his eyes transfixed by the glittering waters. Finally, he sank down on the grass and just gazed out across the clearing. Naelie joined him and suddenly gasped with surprise as a vivid blue fish leapt out of the water, the drops flying and glistening as it flew through the air, then dove back in with a light splash.

Later on that evening, Beleril served up a bowl of vegetable soup for both Naelie and him. Setting the bowls onto the table, accompanied by two goblets of water, he called to Naelie who was washing before her meal. Sure enough, she appeared a minute later and joined Beleril at the table.

They ate their soup in silence, each reflecting on the day's events. At last, Naelie spoke up.

"Thank you for showing me your home today, Bel".

Beleril smiled happily at her. "It was my pleasure, pen-neth".

The moon crept stealthily out from behind a cloud, illuminating the tops of the trees and beyond with a pale light. The night was fairly clear and cool and the stars were bright. The fields outside the borders of Lorien were devoid of any movement, save for the heads of the corn swaying in the night air.

Seòras sat upon an upturned barrel amidst the ruins of what had once been his home, his head in his hands. He shook as he wept and eventually looked up and gazed blearily round at the devastation. Where there had once been houses, there lay now only ashes, dust and splintered wood. Where there had once been foliage, lush and green, there was now only the charred remains. Where there had once been those he knew and loved, there were now only graves.

Save for one.

She would never have a grave. His only daughter was lost to the woods and from what he had found, she was certainly dead. He tried to close his mind to the thoughts of his young child being carried off by some brutal woodland animal or worse, the wildman that had escaped him.

With that, he dissolved into racking sobs again as all around him, his kin were being buried by the few survivors. The moon soon disappeared behind the sparse clouds and tiny drops of rain fell from the heavens, splattering the parched ground as they fell. The tears of Mother Nature herself, weeping for her fallen.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Bricta and Beleril who are from my own imagination and therefore are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world will not allow this.

Chapter 6

The morning sun had barely risen, and yet already there were signs of life from below the trees. The sounds of clashing metal and cries could be heard along with scuffling and the continuing snapping of twigs – the very sounds of battle.

However, contrary to what the sounds told, this was not a battle. It was a friendly one-on-one match between Haldir and Beleril. As both Beleril and Haldir were generally early risers, the time was ideal for them to get in some practise as Haldir was due to set off for border duty directly after breakfast which had not even been cooked yet.

By the sidelines sat Orophin and Naelie, watching intently as the two warriors fought well-matched in ability and strength. Though he did not look it, Haldir was remarkably agile upon his feet, dodging most of Beleril's attacks with deceptive looking ease.

An expanse of eight years had passed since Naelie had first entered Lorien and yet to those that knew her, it seemed like less than a week had gone by. Naelie herself was just fourteen and her once short curls fell now just below her shoulders. She had grown up well, but was not yet fully mature. She had also grown also in stature, though she was nowhere near as tall as those around her.

As Beleril made a successful lunge at his opponent, Naelie whooped and cheered her friend on. "Go on, Bel!" she called happily.

Orophin chuckled and looked down at the grinning face of the girl seated next to him. "I did not know that you were always up with the dawn" he commented.

"Oh, I am not usually" she replied. "But I decided to come down today and see how Bel fares".

Orophin nodded. "That is all well and good, but I will wager that Haldir carries this round".

Naelie smirked and resumed watching. "Well, we shall see" she smiled.

"On form today, aren't you, Haldir?" remarked Beleril as Haldir dodged his lunge yet again.

"I could say the same about you, friend Beleril" replied Haldir, still not pausing in his attack. "However, I feel that it is your footwork that may trip you today".

Beleril raised a brow and looked swiftly down. "By the Valar, you are right" he said, remarking his appalling footwork.

As it was, Haldir did indeed carry the round after Beleril stumbled slightly, giving his captain the opportunity he needed to knock Beleril's sword out of his grasp.

"Well fought, Haldir" said Beleril, good naturedly after retrieving his sword from the ground.

"Thank you, Bel" Haldir replied with a grin.

Then both opponents put their hands to their breasts and bowed swiftly before retreating and sheathing their swords, as was polite in combat. The pair made their way over to where Naelie and Orophin sat and collected their belongings from them.

"Well matched, you two are" remarked Orophin as he handed Haldir his outer garments.

"Oh, I don't know about that" said Beleril. "Haldir's ability far surpasses my own, but I will say it is always a pleasure and an honour to fight against him as it is alongside him".

Haldir nodded and smiled. "I do declare, I think you give yourself far less credit that you rightly deserve, Bel. For I believe with a little extra training, you and I may one day be completely equal".

"Maybe" laughed Beleril, collecting his own tunic from Naelie. "But mark my words, that day is many a decade away".

The four stood up and made their way back to their own talans and as they reached a fork in the path, Haldir and Orophin bid Naelie and Beleril farewell as they parted for the time being.

"Haldir?" said Orophin thoughtfully as he walked alongside his elder brother. "I do believe I am having the most inspirational thought."

"Oh yes?" said Haldir with question. He had had much experience with Orophin's little sparks of so-called inspiration to last him many years, and almost none of them brought back very pleasant memories.

Orophin nodded. "I think that Naelie should be granted the opportunity to learn sword fighting".

Haldir stopped dead in his tracks. "But Orophin, she is merely a child. Surely you cannot expect someone of her age to learn how to fight?"

Orophin shrugged. "She certainly has the enthusiasm, Haldir. I was watching her today in your fight with Bel and she was enthralled, watching each and every movement either of you two made. Besides, fourteen is not a bad age to start learning. Indeed, I would say for a human it is exactly the right age".

"You do, do you?" But still, Haldir looked thoughtful as though mulling the idea over in his own mind. Finally, he spoke up again. "Alright. But who will train her?"

Orophin stood agape at his brother. "I was thinking you might".

"Me?" Now it was Haldir's turn to look shocked. "Orophin, you know all too well I have neither the time, nor the patience to start training her. Find an elf who can teach her the basics and then maybe, and I mean maybe, I could take her on to the more advanced techniques".

Haldir began walking again, and Orophin had to jog to keep up with him. "But Haldir. Who else is there, besides you? You are the one of the best, everyone knows that. The only other that could possibly rival you is Galáril, and you know as well as I do his temperament. So I do not think the concept of Naelie training with him is that much of an idea"

"But that would still leave the problem of the time required to train her" argued Haldir.

"Easily solved. You abandon your morning training sessions with Beleril and take on Naelie instead".

"What?"

From the expression on Haldir's face, Orophin had the feeling he was not going to win him over in this debate, but still he persevered.

"You said yourself, Haldir, that Beleril had a great skill with the sword, why would he need training at the moment, if he already possesses that skill?"

Haldir suddenly spotted something in Orophin's comment that provided him with an exceptional counter attack. "True. He is very good with a sword, therefore why cannot Bel train her?"

Orophin sighed. "Because they are both too close as friends. I fear if Beleril took Naelie on, he may let his relationship with her blind him from the task of tutoring, and go too easy on her".

"Fair point" said Haldir admittedly, running a hand through his hair in deep thought. "I will offer to train her, Orophin" he said finally. "But if she refuses the offer, we will say no more about it, understand?"

Orophin nodded, and from that moment on, they walked the rest of the way to their talans, neither speaking a word, too lost in their own thoughts to do so.

"Train me?" Naelie looked from Haldir to Orophin and back again, her eyes shining with glee. "Would you really?"

Haldir nodded. "Yes. For you are old enough to be able to learn at least the basics, but as I said before, your training would mean me foregoing Beleril's morning fights".

Beleril smiled. "I do not mind in the least, Haldir" he said. "For Naelie's training is infinitely more vital than friendly matches between friends. And, unlike you, Haldir. I have time in the day when I may seek out another elf to engage in combat."

Again, Haldir nodded. "This is true of course, and I appreciate your agreeing to this so graciously, Bel."

Beleril just smiled. "As I said, Haldir. There are more important things at stake".

The next morning, Naelie woke bright and early as the lark. She hurried around the talan before Beleril was even considering waking up, and got swiftly dressed in a light tunic and leggings as well as a leather jerkin on-top – in all, the attire needed for every beginner at sword combat.

She ate a light breakfast and Haldir had told her too, for apparently anything too heavy would sit equally heavy upon her stomach ad restrict her movements. Naelie didn't know quite how that would come about, but she trusted Haldir's judgement completely.

She was all ready to leave by the time Beleril finally emerged from his room, his silver hair slightly tousled. "Up and dressed already?" he said admirably, eyeing Naelie with amusement.

Naelie nodded in response and gestured at the table. "I made your lemon tea" she said. "Thought I'd save you some time",

Beleril nodded and smiled thankfully as he retrieved the already brewed cup from the table. "All ready for your first training session?" he asked, joining Naelie on the couch.

"I think so" she replied, sounding a little unsure. "I mean, I am very happy that Haldir is taking me on, very happy indeed, but I wonder if his form of training will be too advanced for me".

Beleril patted Naelie reassuringly on her arm. "He will start steady and slow for the beginning" he said. "Do not worry. He knows what level you are at and will train you accordingly".

Naelie smiled gratefully up at Beleril and soon resumed drinking the tea she had made for herself.

By the time Naelie arrived at the training ground, Haldir was already there, checking over his sword for any signs of bluntness. Beside him, lay quite a thick branch that had fallen from a tree. Its length was about two foot and it was now smooth, for Haldir had been working on it with a small piece of sandpaper he had borrowed. Upon hearing Naelie arrive, he looked up and smiled in greeting. She returned the gesture and hurried over to him. She had deliberately not brought a sword with her, not because she forgot or was lazy, but because of something Orophin had accidentally let slip the night before.

Haldir picked up on the absence of a sword immediately. "Ah, I see you have not brought a sword with you" he commented.

Naelie nodded. "Yes, for Orophin told me of your training methods for beginners last night".

Haldir smirked. "Did he now? Well, I'm glad to see that brother of mine is being useful for a change".

Naelie chuckled then continued. "Shall I go and fetch one now?"

Haldir shook his head and gestured at the stick upon the ground. "Nay, for I have one here. Give me a moment for I need to halve it".

Picking up his sword from the bench, Haldir dealt a swift swing to the branch which cut cleanly into two. He then proceeded to round off the ends to make them also smooth and rounded and easier to grip. Once finished, he threw one half to Naelie who caught it as it flew through the air.

"Now" said Haldir, picking up his half and walking back towards her. "I hear from Beleril you already have some skill with a dagger, is that correct?"

Naelie nodded. "Yes, but what skill I have is not terribly advanced".

"That does not matter. All I am going to try and do is expand upon you knowledge already, alright?"

Again, Naelie nodded in response.

"So" continued Haldir, "the first thing I am going to try and teach you today is how to control your footwork, for as you saw yesterday with Beleril and I, poor footwork puts your opponent at a great advantage. Remember, your main aim is to try and push me back and get me to surrender, and to do that, you must know how to move".

Naelie looked at him, then to the stick and then back to Haldir again. "So we won't need these at the moment?" she asked.

"Nay, that is true" he said, tossing his aside. "You are learning quick, pen-neth".

Following suit, Naelie discarded her stick and waited patiently for the next command.

"But as I have learnt in my years of service, one learns quicker practically than theoretically. Now, remember, you are trying to push me back". Looking around, Haldir's eyes searched for a possible destination and quickly found one. "Let's see if you can force me back against that tree behind me"

Naelie stepped forward, as did Haldir, her heart pounding for some unknown reason inside her chest. Was it fear? Anxiety? Concern of humiliation? Naelie didn't know. All she knew was she wanted to prove herself worthy of being tutored, especially in front of Haldir.

Her first few attempts were not successful and within seconds, Haldir had Naelie backed against a tree of her own. She suddenly began to realise just how much work was involved in the skill of sword combat. It wasn't just whirling a sword around in mid-air and hoping to kill your opponent. There was true skill and great precision needed, considerably more than what she had previously learnt with a dagger.

On her fifth try, she managed to make Haldir move back a few paces, but still not enough to back him against the tree.

"Good, good" he commented. "You are most certainly improving well".

Naelie smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Haldir, but I fear it may take many a try before I can back you against that tree instead of me!"

Haldir chuckled. "Enough banter, I think. Shall we try again?"

They continued in this formula for over fifteen minutes and with each try, Naelie grew more confident and moved with slightly more agility. Then just as she was about to be backed against the tree yet again, she feigned a move left, causing Haldir to act for a step that never came. As quick as lightning, she played her next move, and then the next until to his utmost surprise, Haldir found himself feet from the tree. Holding up a hand, he stopped her as his tunic brushed against the bark.

"Very good indeed, Naelie." He said, seating himself on the bench. "You have made excellent progress and I am well pleased, especially considering this is your first lesson".

Naelie did not reply as she was too out of breath to do so. However she smiled in response, and seeing her need, Haldir handed her the skin of water he always carried with him, which she accepted gratefully.

After she had finished drinking, he stood up again. "Do you feel ready to try the sticks or would you prefer to rest?" he asked.

Naelie was adamant. "Nay, I am quite alright now, thank you, Haldir. If you believe I am ready, I will certainly try the sticks".

Haldir did indeed believe this and said so. As he did before, he tossed Naelie the other half of the stick, which she caught, though not quite as swiftly as before.

"Now remember, a sword weighs quite a bit more than the stick you are holding, even the most lightweight wrought swords are substantially heavier. We will use sticks for you to get used to the movements and then progress onto handling the weight of a real sword later on" Haldir explained.

Naelie nodded and held her stick tightly, gripping it within both hands which Haldir soon noticed and corrected.

"When holding your sword" he said. "Only use one hand, for using two restricts the freedom of movement – both the sword's and yours. I have notched the stick as to where the top of the hilt would be. Grip your sword with one hand below that notch".

Naelie looked down and soon found the notch he was referring to. Taking a hand off the stick, she let it hang by her side and remarkably, she felt the tension in her sword-arm lessen as she relaxed the other.

"Good" commented Haldir as he watched her free up her hand. "Now, all I will do today is teach you the basics of blocking. For once you know how to block an attack; you will learn more quickly how to make an attack".

As was the fashion in friendly combat, Haldir then did what he did with Beleril out of pure habit. Placing a hand on his breast, he bowed to Naelie, who, after seeing what Beleril had done the morning before, followed suit.

"Remember your footwork, Naelie. This time you are trying to block every attack I make." he said, before beginning. "And go!"

Naelie did indeed remember her footwork and used it quite effectively, the only problem being that she concentrated too hard on that aspect, and soon enough she found herself squarely tagged on the shoulder.

"Not bad" Haldir said graciously. "Let's try again".

As they had done with the footwork, Haldir worked Naelie fairly lightly but effectively, correcting her mistakes and giving her praise on her accomplishments.

The time flew by quickly and soon, Haldir noted the sun's position in the sky and stopped fighting. "I am afraid we will have to leave it here for today" he said, lowering his weapon, "as I have border duty starting in little over half an hour and what would a captain be without a decent breakfast inside him?"

He winked at Naelie who grinned and nodded. "Shall I keep this, or do you want it back?" she asked him, referring to the stick.

"You may keep it, as long as you don't lose it, pen-neth" he said. "You would not believe how long it took me to find a decent length stick that had already fallen".

"Do not worry. I shall not lose it" she assured him.

Haldir nodded then bent down to retrieve the remainder of his belongings. He put everything away swiftly, and then swung the material pack over his shoulder, ready to leave. As he began to walk off, she spoke again. "Thank you for agreeing to train me, Haldir" she added.

Haldir turned around and smiled. "It was my pleasure, Naelie, and I think you will prove to be a most worthwhile student".

That evening, Haldir spent the late hours with his brothers as Rumil had recently taken to cookery, and had prepared the evening meal in his talan.

"This looks delicious, Rumil!" remarked Haldir as Rumil ladled out rabbit stew and dumplings onto their plates.

"Thank you, Haldir" Rumil smiled appreciatively as he sat down and gestured to the porcelain dishes upon the table, their contents steaming. "Help yourselves to vegetables".

After the meal, Rumil and Haldir settled down by the fireplace to enjoy a few rounds of chess, while Orophin curled up in a chair reading the next chapter of a thick novel.

"Twas a nice day, today" said Haldir as he waited for Rumil to make his next move.

Rumil looked up, a note of query about his brother's sudden remark more than audible in his voice. "Yes. Indeed it was".

Rumil moved his bishop three spaces then clicked his tongue in surprise as Haldir took it with his rook, finally making their score even.

"I was thinking today, Haldir" said Rumil, not quite earning his brother's attention, "about Beleril".

"Oh yes?" said Haldir, not looking up from the board.

"Do you think he may be becoming too attached?"

"Attached?" Haldir looked up questioningly, and Rumil, glad that Haldir was finally listening attentively, continued.

"To Naelie I mean. We all know that Lord Celeborn could not find another housing arrangement and so it was decided she should stay with Beleril. I know it appears she has no family to speak of, but Haldir, you know as well as I do we have no evidence to prove that. I am just worried that the day may come when Bel has to give her up to go back to her own kin. I don't know if he could cope with it. You've seen them together and I am sure he regards her quite like a younger sister now".

Haldir abandoned trying to figure out his next move and sat thinking hard, his chin resting in his open palms. "I do not think that will happen, Rumil" he said finally.

"What makes you say that?" asked Rumil.

"Well, she has been with us for many years and I believe she considers and views Lorien as her home now".

Haldir paused and Rumil took the opportunity to speak up again. "True, brother, but we still haven't ruled out the possibility of her still having living relatives".

"I think, Rumil, that any hope of anyone finding her has long passed. It has been over eight years after all. I am sure if anyone was still out there, they would have found her by now".

"Would they?" Rumil didn't look convinced.

"Yes Rumil, I am positive they would have. Look, if you are concerned, go and speak with the Lord and Lady. If I cannot suffice to put your mind at rest, they will most certainly be able to" Haldir added kindly.

Rumil shook his fair head. "Nay. You have helped to put my mind at ease, brother, and for that I thank you".

Haldir nodded and with a smile returned to the game to seek out the next move.

But despite what his brother had said and the assured tone in which he had spoken, Rumil still remained thoughtful and wary of the prospect that someday, Naelie may have to return to her own kind. However, he never voiced his opinion again.

In Lorien that night, there were two restless figures in their own beds. One was Rumil, as his conversation with Haldir still lay heavily upon his mind and the other was Naelie. Though she was sleeping, she was tossing and turning every few seconds and the first appearance of cold sweat was beginning to form upon her pale brow.

She was running through a forest, panic stricken the sounds of clashing metal and gruff roaring ringing in her ears. The tree branches whipped about her face and her feet skidded and slipped upon uneven ground. She suddenly came into a clearing and gasped at what she saw.

A man stood fighting ill-matched against two wildmen. His clothes were ripped and bloody and he had a gash across his head which was bleeding profusely. She called out to him but he did not hear her cries and carried on fighting the already lost battle. Then, with a stroke of luck, the man flung his sword into one of the wildmen's backs and with a deafening howl, his opponent crashed to earth.

The other wildman let out a roar of fury and brought his club down upon the poor man with a sickening crack. Swaying only slightly, the man's knees buckled and he fell to the ground and lay unmoving.

It was then that Naelie recognised him. It was her father. She tried to run towards him, to help him but she was frozen to the ground on which she stood. Everything was dissolving around her, swirling out of focus and then, quite suddenly, she found herself in another clearing. She was up in a tree, looking down upon the ground when she noticed a lone figure crawling through the undergrowth and emerging in the clearing. The other thing she noticed was that it was morning. The bleak light made his features hard to make out but it was obvious he had been badly wounded.

She watched, horror-stricken as the man crawled to the base of the tree above where she sat and heard an ear-splitting crunch as something was pulled roughly out of the trunk. Then she heard the sound of heart-wrenching sobbing and a jumble of words mixed in thickly. She tried to hear them, but she could not pick out what the man was saying. Suddenly, she heard a few words that shocked her beyond belief. "Oh, Naelie! I failed you! I'm so sorry!"

Naelie? That was her name! Then it clicked. The man here was her father also. ****

**"PAPA!"** she cried and began to climb down the tree towards him. Then, quite suddenly she lost her footing and slipped. As she fell, she didn't worry. Her father would catch her. But no strong arms came to lift her up and hold her tight. Instead she kept falling, and falling… everything was turning white, falling and falling………..

With an abrupt jerk, Naelie sat bolt upright in bed, sweating and shaking, her breathing coming in short, and heavy gasps. Reaching onto her bedside table for her glass, she took a gulp of the water and slid slowly out of bed, finding herself suddenly in dire need of fresh air.

Naelie padded her way out to the balcony and stood, gazing out at Lorien by night. The crisp night air fluttered gently about her pale face, cooling her and gently easing her breathing. She rested her elbows upon the railing and tried to recall what the nightmare had been about. Then she remembered. It was her father in her dream and he was being attacked. He had called out her name too, but what did it mean? Was he still alive?

Naelie shook herself and cursed herself mentally for being stupid. "He is dead" she told herself sternly. "He's dead, and nothing you say, do or dream will bring him back".

She stood upon the balcony for a little while longer, breathing in the refreshing air until she felt at ease enough to try and sleep again. Naelie retreated back inside the talan, closing the door behind her, still unaware she was being watched.

Upon hearing her awake so quickly then go out to the balcony, Beleril had slipped out of his room and watched and waited to make sure she was alright, not wishing to invade her privacy by making his presence known. Once he saw he go back inside her room, he was certain she was well and retired into his own.

Most likely, the only two elves that were now not in slumber at that moment were the lord and lady. Celeborn was pacing their talan, disturbed at what Galadriel had just told him. She had been down to the Mirror that evening and had seen a large pack of timber wolves prowling dangerously close to the forest outskirts. From what she saw, none had yet ventured into the forest itself, apparently preferring life in the smaller copses nearby.

"Are you certain none have entered Lothlorien?" he asked again.

"I am quite sure" she replied.

Celeborn sat down on the bed, in deep thought. "That is good news to be sure, but these wolves will certainly leave the copses at some stage from either lack of food or some other reason, and come searching for another source. My fear is that they will come into the forest sooner than we think."

"In which case" Galadriel interrupted. "We should send word down to the Galadhrim right away, for they need to be on their guard for such an attack."

Celeborn nodded. He agreed wholly with his wife but could not help wondering about the size of the pack. If it was large enough, the Galadhrim may be outnumbered. Still, it wasn't certain the wolves would come into Lorien but it was not an impossibility.

"I will go now and alert them."

Galadriel looked up and fixed her husband with a firm stare. "Leave them be for tonight. They need their rest".

"I am sure they do" Celeborn replied. "But I know for a fact I will not sleep until they are told of this".

Galadriel sighed in resignation. "Very well. But when you return, I will most likely be sleeping. So please come back in very quietly".

Celeborn smiled and dealt a soft kiss to his wife's forehead. "I will make sure of it" he assured her. Then turning on his heel, he disappeared into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie Beleril and Bricta who are from my own imagination and are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world will not allow this.

Chapter 7

Over her many months of training, Naelie's progress began to steadily improve, earning her silent admiration from Haldir. They kept to their strict schedule so as not to interfere with Haldir's border duty, which meant up at dawn and down at the training grounds fifteen minutes after waking. At the start of her training, Naelie found this to be particularly exhausting and bothersome, however as time went on, she gradually became accustomed to rising early, and soon, it became second nature to her.

It took no less than three months of hard work and practise until Haldir was ready to allow Naelie to train with a sword. Not a full size one, but small enough for her to handle, yet strong enough to be wielded as a useful weapon.

Beleril and Orophin occasionally came down to watch her training sessions, each very interested in how long it would take for her to improve under Haldir's hand. The autumnal months slipped quickly by like water through cupped palms, barely noticeable at first but a surprise when it all had disappeared, and soon, the clever wind changed again, heralding the coming of winter outside the borders. During that cold and frosty time, all outside Lothlorien was a beauteous sight to behold indeed. Glittering rows of icicles clung to the remaining leaves and branches, catching Anor's rays and casting golden patterns upon the frozen ground.

However, inside Lorien itself, the snows and ice of winter could not penetrate, for it was guarded by the power of Nenya – the Ring of Power gifted to Galadriel.

Although the elves as the inhabitants of Lorien did not feel the cold, they saw its presence outside the woods and marvelled at its effect on the circle of nature.

"Remember, keep your feet steady on the ground" Haldir reminded her, halfway through sword training one morning.

"I know Haldir" laughed Naelie, taking a well earned sip from her water skin. "That is the fourth time you've told me that this morning!"

"Just reminding you, Naelie" he replied, sheathing his sword and walking over to her. "Even the strongest warriors need a nudge in the right direction sometimes".

Naelie sighed good naturedly and nodded. Taking her sword from the log her belongings were set upon, she sat down and began to sharpen the point as it had slowly grown fairly blunt.

"So" continued Haldir, sitting down with her. "You have been training with me for well over a year now, is that correct?"

"Yes, I think so" Naelie replied, not taking her eyes off the task in hand.

"Indeed" said Haldir thoughtfully. "That would make you…just sixteen, am I right?"

"Again, you are correct, Haldir" Naelie smiled. "I was sixteen last week".

"I think it is time for you to have your first experience of Lorien's Spring Ball" remarked Haldir. "That is, if you wish to".

Naelie looked up, her eyes suddenly bright and alert with excitement. "Really? You think I am old enough to go?"

"I see no reason why not" he replied. "You have grown much in the past years and I think it would be a worthwhile experience for you".

Naelie grinned broadly then on a whim threw her arms round Haldir's middle. "Oh, thank you!" she cried, overjoyed.

"No need to thank me, pen-neth" laughed Haldir, "and seriously, I cannot fathom why you are getting so emotional on me"

Chuckling, Naelie removed herself from his person, her face almost glowing with happiness. "Well, it would be my first ever Spring Ball, Haldir" she reminded him, "I think I am permitted to get a little emotional about it!"

"Fair enough" he said admittedly, unsheathing his sword. "Now, how about we get back to what we are here to do?"

Naelie nodded, retrieved her sword from where it lay and soon the pair were back practising as they were before.

The night of the Spring Ball crept quickly up upon the residents of Lorien, and before anyone knew it, the very day had arrived. There were no obvious clues that one of Lorien's finest celebrations was being prepared, however there was a certain buzz of excitement in the air, and occasionally you would hear two elleths or so discussing their attire for the evening, or even perhaps a young elf planning his scheme to win an elleth's heart at the ball.

Up in her room, Naelie was busy getting herself ready for the upcoming ball. It was hard to describe how she felt at that particular moment in time – excited would have been an understatement to say the least. She was also very nervous, a feeling that while not unknown to her, seemed to overpower her current feelings of excitement and anticipation. What if she didn't fit in? What if she made a fool of herself? To her, the list seemed endless.

Sitting in front of the vanity mirror, she made the final touch to her hair and moved to the larger mirror to examine her reflection. She was garbed in a bottle green dress, the neck and sleeves embroidered with silver thread. Naelie always marvelled at the fine elven tailoring that went into making attire such as this, and especially what had gone into making her gown. The silken material flowed like water through her fingers and hung lightweight upon her, making moving across a floor whilst wearing it, pleasurable as opposed to hard work.

After many frustrating attempts, she had finally tamed her unruly hair which now hung loosely about her shoulders in tight curls, devoid of the usual light frizz she often had to deal with. Glancing downwards briefly, Naelie touched a finger to the thin silver chain about her neck and stood for a second, fascinated by its intricacy.

"Naelie, are you ready?" came Beleril's voice from the main room.

"Yes" she called back. "Just one minute".

Naelie quickly put the lid back on the powder she had used and stuffed the comb and crème back inside the drawer underneath her vanity table.

"Coming!" she assured Beleril. She grabbed her outer cloak from its current position upon the bed, draped it around her neck and hurried out the door.

"My, I cannot imagine a more beautiful spring night for the ball, than this, can you, Bel?"

Beleril and Naelie walked side by side, Naelie's arm linked through his. Beleril wore a pale blue tunic and pants, the tunic embroidered with tiny silver leaves. His hair was mostly loose, save for a couple of braids and he was shod with soft leather boots.

"Nay, I cannot" he replied with a smile.

The sky that could be glimpsed through the trees was as clear and still as water, the stars glinting down like precious stones, caught in the flickering gleam of a candle. The Ball itself was to be held in the Deer Hall. Its name was strange, but once inside, one could plainly see why it was named as such. All around the walls were rich coloured tapestries and paintings, primarily of the deer and fauns along with woodland scenery and depictions from elven folklore. The deer itself was a well known symbol of love, gentleness, kindness, gracefulness and sensitivity. It also carried the message of purity of purpose, and of walking in the light. Henceforth, the deer was a creature that was held in high esteem among the Firstborn.

Along the walls were many silver handled candelabrums, the candles they held all alight with amber flames that cast a golden sheen along the polished white marble, making the floor seem to ripple like calm water greeting the dawn. On either side of the Hall rested two long magnificent cedar tables, both laden with all varieties of foods and drinks, especially fruits, berries and nuts, along with various meats and cheeses. Silver goblets stood in rows, each containing elderberry wine, a speciality in Lorien and a fruit which proved to fare best when picked in the early months of the year.

At the far end of the hall stood two cedar chairs, their patterning intricate and detailed. The backs of the chairs were covered with soft white velvet, as were the seats – no doubt there to give comfort to the occupants. Around the edges and legs were carved tiny elderflowers that wound their way around the chair, intertwining and weaving together as they went. These chairs at the beginning of the Ball were vacated as they were meant for the Lord and Lady, both of whom would arrive in due course.

"Bel! Over here!"

Both Beleril and Naelie turned in an attempt to find the source of the shout. It didn't take them long, however, as Rumil was already all but running towards them. The young brother of Haldir was garbed in exactly the same tunic we seemed to wear every Spring Ball – A silver tunic, pants and smart leather boots. His hair was the only thing that seemed different this year as he had clipped it back as opposed to having his usual braids.

"Rumil! I'm _surprised _to see you here so early!" grinned Beleril, a little sarcastically.

"Yeah well, if you don't get here in good time, all the decent food will have been eaten!" smirked Rumil.

It was then that Rumil spotted Naelie, and with an elderberry filled goblet in one hand and a chicken leg in the other, he embraced her warmly but carefully.

"My dear Naelie" he smiled. "I'm pleased to see you at one of our prestigious Spring Balls at last!"

"Not as pleased as I am" replied Naelie enthusiastically.

Seconds later, a scarlet gowned elleth with fine chestnut hair bustled over to the group, a beaming smile on her unblemished face.

"Why, you must be Naelie" the elleth remarked, grasping Naelie's hand in a welcoming gesture that was surprisingly genteel.

"Wh-? Oh, I mean, yes I am" Naelie smiled back, slightly awkwardly.

"I have heard so much about you from, Rumil" the elleth carried on, "I hear you are being trained at sword combat with Haldir, am I correct?"

Naelie nodded politely. "Yes. Haldir is a most excellent teacher".

"I'm sure he is" replied the elleth, taking a sip of her drink. "Tell me. Has he said anything about me to you, perchance?"

"Erm…..Well….I"

The elleth gave a light merry chuckle. I am sorry, I have not even properly introduced myself to you, forgive me. I am Nadia".

"Pleasure to meet you, Nadia" Naelie sighed inwardly out of relief that the elleth had caught on to her problem with the name issue.

"So" continued Nadia. "Has Haldir ever mentioned me, even in passing?"

Naelie shook her head. "I don't think so….no I cannot ever recall him mentioning your name. Why? Should he have done?"

Nadia laughed again. "Nay, do not worry, Naelie. It is wonderful news to me that Haldir has not yet said anything – it can only mean he has not found out". She slapped a hand to her mouth suddenly as though she had said too much.

"Why, Nadia. I do believe you have drunk a little too much wine already" said Rumil, more seriously than Naelie expected.

"Oh, do stop fussing, Rumil" Nadia replied, somewhat irritably. "Tis Haldir's own fault he is such a stiff".

Rumil coughed abruptly. "A tad harsh, Nadia".

"You think so, do you?" Nadia smirked, poking Rumil in the chest. "You try convincing _dear_ Hal that you are not descended from orc spawn nor were born in the depths of Mordor and see how far you get!"

Nadia sighed and leant forward a little more, so she could whisper to Naelie. "Rumil and I have been together for many months now, and Haldir has not yet found out, Elbereth be praised".

"Why would it matter if he did?" asked Naelie, quite surprised at Nadia's forwardness in conversation – after all, the two had only just met.

"I am afraid Haldir thinks I am not good enough for his little brother."

"Why on earth would he think that?" interjected Beleril.

Nadia shrugged. "Don't ask me, Bel. It would seem me and Mister Protective have some sort of eternal tiff going on that even I don't know the reason behind".

Rumil suddenly grasped Nadia's arm. "Erm….darling. Don't look now, but here comes 'Mister Protective'!"

Nadia looked up sharply. "Ah nettlejuice!" She turned back briefly to Beleril and Naelie and smiled. "Nice meeting you Naelie. Oh, and please keep schtum about me and Rumil, ok?"

Naelie nodded. "No problem".

With a grin of thanks, Nadia suddenly found herself whisked away by Rumil and out into the gardens, just as Haldir looked in their direction.

Naelie and Beleril remained composed as Haldir strode briskly over to them.

"Good to see you again, Naelie" he smiled. "Bel, how are the sparrows?"

"Still not back" sighed Beleril.

"Ah well, it's early days. They'll return soon enough, you mark my words".

Beleril nodded, still battling inwardly to stop himself laughing and giving the game away about Nadia and Rumil's abrupt departure.

He failed.

"What's the joke?" asked Haldir curiously.

"N-nothing, Hal" grinned Beleril, not very convincingly. "I just felt like laughing, tis all!"

Haldir raised a brow suspiciously "Really?"

Beleril nodded and added quickly. "Hal, have you tried the elderberry wine yet?"

Haldir shook his head, still wary and alert after his friend's outburst . "Nay, Bel. I have just arrived".

"Oh. Right! Well, I highly recommend it" continued Beleril, finally managing to keep a straight face.

"I shall endeavour to sample it at some point this evening" replied Haldir. "Now, if you'll excuse me I need to have a talk with Tadrien".

Beleril and Naelie nodded and bid him a fond farewell, both trying to stifle their laughter. Haldir , in the meantime, walked off towards Tadrien – a young golden haired elf standing near the cheese boards, his mind still more than usually active trying to pinpoint exactly what had been so amusing.

As the evening wore on, Naelie met a fair few more elleths and elves whom, to her own great surprise, she had never seen before. Naelie was also invited to dance by a couple of elves, including the head scribe – Celéndel and the Galadhrim healer – Tadrien.

After a particularly fast paced jig, Naelie collapsed onto one of the vacant chairs to regain her breath. It was then she realised whom she was seated with. Opposite from her sat Haldir, a goblet of elderberry in his hand and his eyes seemingly transfixed by those still dancing. Naelie greeted him warmly, and he jumped slightly, apparently having not been aware of her joining him.

"Are you enjoying yourself, ?" he asked her with a smile.

"Yes, thank you" she replied, still slightly breathless from the dance beforehand. "Have you not danced yet?"

Haldir nodded. "Yes, once at the beginning of this evening. But I tend to prefer observing"

Naelie cocked her head thoughtfully. "Would you permit me the honour to observe the next dance with you?"

Haldir chuckled. "Clever. Very clever, Naelie. However, I think you know what I really meant."

"Very well" she sighed, "but you cannot blame me for trying". Naelie got up suddenly and Haldir watched her curiously, not sure whether he had offended her in some way he was not aware of. He needn't have worried, for she had only gone to fetch herself a goblet of elderberry wine, and a minute or so later, she returned and seated herself again with him.

"So" Naelie began, taking a sip of her wine. "How have you been faring since our last battle?"

"What?" asked Haldir, confused for just a second before it dawned upon him what she was talking about. "Oh, right. Sorry. I am faring quite well thank you. And yourself and Bel?"

"We're fine" replied Naelie. "Poor guy though. He's been quite worried recently about the sparrows. After all, it's not like them to be this late back to the nest. According to Bel, the females of that family have been nesting in the same place outside his talan for the past ten years. Remarkable, I'd say".

"And I would agree with you, Naelie" nodded Haldir. "I keep telling Bel to stop fretting, but he can't seem to get through a morning without talking about them at the moment. I hope they do come back too, but if they are not back in the next few weeks, he will have to accept they have found a new nesting place".

Naelie had to agree with this. Although it would be sad if they did not return, she was sure Beleril would soon get over it and move on to being concerned about something else. It was natural for him.

They pair looked up as the music started up again, signalling the beginnings of the next dance, which sounded undoubtedly slower but not quite a waltz tempo. Naelie glanced sideways at Haldir, her expression relieving her need for words.

Catching a glimpse of her smirk, Haldir rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation. "Go on then" he said, standing up and offering his hand to her. "What harm can it do?"

"None whatsoever, Haldir" Naelie, grinned.

She took his hand gratefully and followed him onto the dance floor where the various other elves and elleths were currently assembling and readying themselves for the upcoming dance. Naelie just managed to suppress a smirk as out of the corner of her eye she noticed Nadia and Rumil were back _and _out on the dance floor. Clearly, Rumil had either finally decided that he was going to be outright about his relationship with Nadia and not care one iota about what Haldir thought or did to him **or **they had both either had too much elderberry. The latter was more plausible, Naelie privately thought. __

Haldir gently placed on arm around Naelie's middle and his other hand upon her shoulder, as did she him. Moments later, the tempo of the music began to pick up slightly and the pair began to move in almost perfect sync with each other and the harmony. They swayed in time with the music, each other's eyes locked and never straying. Naelie felt very glad of the fact that she had quite small feet, for she felt certain that dancing the way she was now, she may have easily accidentally trod on Haldir's. She chuckled inwardly at the thought, still knowing all too well she would be mortified if that should ever happen.

As the pace of the music began to pick up, so did the movements of the dancers on the floor. All around her, Naelie could see elves and elleths swaying just as she and Haldir were doing, some also twirling and dipping – some being dipped. Then, quite suddenly, Haldir took complete charge and span Naelie out until she was a full arm's length from him. She was then twirled back towards him and placing a hand securely just below the centre of her back, Haldir dipped her over his arm, the tips of her curls brushing the floor ever so slightly. Then, as quickly as it had happened, he raised her up again and continued dancing with her as they were before, if slighter quicker paced.

The dance ended all too soon for Naelie, for although she was not romantically inclined towards Haldir, she was enamoured most certainly of his dancing abilities. As the musicians struck their last notes and the various dancers departed the floor, Haldir and Naelie made their way over to the beverages table in search of icy water to cool themselves down.

"I had quite forgotten dancing could be such thirsty work" remarked Haldir as they made their way over to a spare table.

"You danced tonight before though, did you not?" Naelie reminded him.

"Yes" replied Haldir admittedly as they sat down. "But this dance was much more invigorating than the other."

Naelie nodded. "True. I can see your point".

The evening was rounded off by a gentle solo from one of Lorien's finest minstrels. He performed the well known and tragic "Ballad of Nimrodel", which told of the elven maiden, Nimrodel who was beloved of Amroth – the former Lord of Lorien before Celeborn. Nimrodel travelled into the southern lands of Middle-earth and became lost in the White Mountains and also spoke of Amroth, who in his search for his love became lost forever at sea.

The minstrel chose to sing the shortened version, for the night was growing late and even he knew his audience could only be held for a certain amount of time before fatigue would begin to creep up upon them. He would perform the full ballad which later told of the sorrow that came upon Lothlorien when the Dwarves awakened the fell evil in the mountains, another time.

As the elleths and elves around them began to filter out the Hall, Naelie looked around for any sign of Beleril. To her surprise, she could find none, but never mind. She was more than capable of making her way home by herself.

"I shall see you no doubt tomorrow, Haldir" she smiled as she rose from her seat.

"Yes. You shall" he replied. "Thank you, by the way, for the dance".

Naelie chuckled. "Nay. 'Tis I who should be thanking you, for you dance superbly".

If Haldir had had the energy, he would have blushed. "Why, thank you, Naelie" he replied. "But there are many whose dancing skills far surpass mine".

"Still, you are no novice, that I am certain" Naelie replied. "Now, I shall say goodnight here, for I see Bel has skulked off again!" she added with a grin.

"Ah. He is well renowned for doing that at the end of events such as these" Haldir sighed. Then, he offered his arm to Naelie with a smile. "May I walk you home instead then?"

"Of course, thank you Haldir" Naelie replied gratefully. And linking her arm with his, they set off from the Hall.

It was not very far to Naelie and Beleril's talan, but still, Naelie was deeply thankful for the breath of cooling night breeze she received on her way back. It was odd, for when she had been inside the Hall, she had not noticed how warm she had become, but as soon as she stepped outside, it had hit her hard. Haldir and Naelie's conversations were brief, each reliving their own experiences at the Ball and at one point, Naelie almost let slip about Nadia and Rumil, but caught herself just in time.

Eventually, the pair came to a standstill outside the talan and quite suddenly, Haldir spotted something that made him laugh out loud with relief.

"That should cheer dear Bel up!" he said.

Looking up in the direction Haldir was pointing, Naelie smiled at the sight of the mother sparrow settled back in her nest.

"Well, that's an enormous relief" Naelie sighed happily. "Perhaps now Bel can go back to being the elf we all know and love again".

"One can only hope" replied Haldir.

Reaching forward, Naelie turned the handle and opened the door to the talan. Inside it was pitch black, which could only mean Beleril had not arrived home yet. Before entering the talan, Naelie turned back to Haldir.

"Thanks for walking back with me, Hal. It was nice to have someone to talk to – more than nice actually".

Haldir smiled warmly. "It was my pleasure, Naelie".

On a whim, Naelie leant forward and gave the elder elf a friendly peck on the cheek in thanks. "Goodnight then, and I'll see you for training in the morning".

"Actually" began Haldir. "Would you mind if we postponed your training session one day. I have a feeling that getting up early tomorrow after tonight's events would not be good for your health and the training would be wasted".

He said all this without sharpness, but as was with Haldir, he tended to like being straight and to the point.

"I can see your meaning, Hal" Naelie replied. "And no, I don't mind in the least".

"That is well then" nodded Haldir. "Goodnight Naelie".

"N-Night". Naelie failed to mask a yawn which caught her completely off-guard. "Sorry" she grinned apologetically. Goodnight".

With that, Naelie turned and walked inside the talan, leaving Haldir on the steps.

Orophin, unfortunately, had happened to walk by at the precise moment that Naelie had kissed Haldir's cheek and being Orophin, he couldn't resist poking around a little.

"So, brother" he began slyly. "What was all that about?"

"All what?" Haldir turned and fixed his brother with an expression of utter confusion.

Orophin sighed at his brother's apparent stupidity. "She kissed you, Hal!"

"Oh that" said Haldir, wafting it aside. "Twas a kiss between friends, that is all. Nothing more than that."

Orophin stood silent, tapping his foot in a most infuriating way.

"What?" said Haldir, feeling the beginnings of irritation.

"Are you sure it wasn't more than that?"

"Yes. We are good friends. Honestly Orophin, I give you my word. I am not in any way, shape or form romantically involved with Naelie".

"Alright, Hal" said Orophin finally. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you this time".

"Good of you" replied Haldir sourly.

As the two brothers walked off towards their own talans, neither of them saw the figure crouched behind a pillar nearby, tears glistening in his usually stable grey eyes.

Beleril knew in his mind that the kiss between Naelie had given Haldir had only been a friendly exchange, but his heart seemed to think the opposite. Even if there wasn't a spark between Haldir and Naelie right now, could this be the beginnings of something more between them?

Beleril wasn't usually bitter, for it had never been in his nature to be so. But no thoughts could calm the raging storm that wracked his mind right at that moment. Nothing could ease the stabbing pain he suddenly felt in his heart. He watched as the two brothers finally walked out of sight completely, and made his way to the door, taking care to wipe the persistent tears from his cheeks before he entered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Bricta and Beleril who are from my own imagination and therefore are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 8

"We cannot possibly need all these berries, Orophin. It's more than enough to feed the whole of Lorien twice over!" Beleril gestured at the three baskets of berries that lay at his feet and sighed as he heard Orophin's laughter.

"It's not funny, Orophin" he frowned, "you have only one basket, and here I am laden down with three!"

Orophin shook his head, grinning and just managed to swallow the laughter that was fighting to get out of him. "I'm sorry, Bel" he replied, still smirking. "But you do exaggerate sometimes".

Naelie watched their exchange and smirked as she caught sight of Beleril, fighting the urge to resign from his position as 'berry collector'. She shook her head and continued searching the undergrowth for suitable fungi for the kitchens. The collection system for the kitchens worked on a four week rota and had been in place ever since the Spring Ball. It had transpired that the cooks in the kitchens only had just enough resources to laden the tables at the Ball after spending most of their free time out in the woods collecting them. And so, a rota to provide the cooks with more time, had been put in place that at the beginning of each week, several groups of three or four would go out in the woods and collect what they could find and bring it back to the kitchens.

This particular week, it was Beleril, Orophin and Naelie's turn to collect the berries and fungi, whilst Galáril, Nadia and Mideth went hunting. Naelie brushed away the leaves that had collected upon her skirt and continued scouring the foliage for fungi and edible mushrooms. On one instance, she thought she heard a low rumbling coming from somewhere in the trees ahead. Looking up for a second or so, she squinted through the thick branches in front of her and finally resolved that she had imagined it.

"Finally" she thought to herself as she uncovered a mushroom. With more effort than usual, she pulled it out of the ground and inspected it for any insects that may have made their home inside it. "Not quite as plump as the others, but right enough" she decided, and deposited it in the basket by her knees. Suddenly, Naelie froze. There was the rumbling again! Only much louder and this time, she knew she hadn't imagined it. She turned round to see both Beleril and Orophin looking wide-eyed in the direction the noise had come from, both of their hands on the hilts of their swords.

"Bel?" she whispered uncertainly, only to receive a 'shush' gesture from Beleril in response. Only moments later, a throaty growl sounded from somewhere behind Orophin and he whipped round, drawing his sword as he did so. Naelie could feel her heartbeat hastening and the beginnings of fear starting to creep up on her.

Whatever was in those trees, there was more than one. Only seconds after Beleril had drawn his sword also, there came two other consecutive growls and four gaunt shapes slunk out of the trees, moving almost silently as they began to circle the trio, their eyes livid and teeth bared. The fur hung limp upon each wolf's body, and Naelie's eyes widened as she saw the horrible state the creatures were in. They were very thin, almost unbelievably so, and their bones could be seen just below the surface of the skin where fur had fallen out, most likely due to fleas, disease or confrontation.

What colour there was in Naelie's face at that moment, left it as she took in the terrifying sight before her. Chancing a glance to her left, she saw that both Orophin and Beleril looked decidedly pale and clenched their fists tighter still around the handles of their swords. The four wolves kept circling menacingly around, and one had begun to salivate at the mouth.

"Do not move until I say" whispered Orophin, barely audibly, waiting for the right moment to strike whilst his eyes tracked the wolves' movements.

Naelie swallowed hard and felt downwards for the dagger she always carried on her person when she was out in the woods. Slowly, she inched her hand to the sheath upon her belt and heard a warning growl from the wolf nearest her as it sensed her movement. She froze, her heart hammering against the inside of her chest as the wolf stood completely still and stared at her. Naelie watched the wolf, her breathing coming in short gasps, and continued to try and reach her dagger, whilst trying her best not to make direct eye contact with the snarling beast only a few feet from her.

Orophin waited until the wolves had slowed down their circling and seeing his chance, he whispered again. "Okay. Don't attack, back away slowly" he instructed Naelie and Beleril, who immediately did as he said whilst watching the wolves.

The wolves continued to glare at them with their hackles raised and soon, they began to advance further upon the trio, their tails held high and showing absolutely no signs of retreating. Next to her, Naelie saw that Orophin's breathing had quickened and he too was having difficulty not making eye contact with the wolves nearest him. Quick as a flash, Orophin bent down and scooped up two large handfuls of rocks from the ground. The wolf close by him suddenly began to howl, the eerie noise reverberating off the trees.

Orophin quickly passed some rocks to both Naelie and Beleril, whilst whispering, slightly louder to be heard over the howls of the wolves. "Throw them and yell as loud as you can and keep backing away".

Naelie blinked disbelieving at Orophin. Throw the rocks at the wolves and yell? He must be mad! They'd be attacked for sure. But right now, she wasn't in a position to argue, so taking a deep breath, she threw a rock at the wolf nearest her and yelled at the top of her voice, backing away as she did so. The wolf walked forward a few steps, its teeth bared and glistening with saliva, but spurred on by the yells from Orophin and Beleril close to her, Naelie continued to throw rocks at the wolf, finally striking it a blow on the peak of its head.

The wolf let out a strangled yelp and backed away slightly, looking quite dazed. Naelie took the opportunity as it was handed to her and kept throwing and yelling at the top of her lungs. Eventually, the wolf backed away considerably and chancing a glance around her, Naelie noticed that the elves were having good success as well. Suddenly, just as the wolves were beginning to show signs of turning tail, Naelie backed away a little too far and overbalanced backwards. With a small cry, she fell to the ground.

This was exactly the chance the wolves had been waiting for. With one of their victims on the floor, defenceless and startled for the moment, they began their attack. The wolf in front of the other three bounded forward with a bark and sunk his teeth into Naelie's leg. Naelie let out a piercing shriek of pain and tears began to fall from her eyes as she scrabbled against the wolf's iron grip. Seeing their fellow's success, the other wolves were spurred on with both the idea of success and the smell of blood.

Howling, the other three made their advances upon Beleril and Orophin, both who were trying their hardest to get the wolf off Naelie. With a growl, the straggliest of the four wolves leapt straight upon Beleril's back, knocking both the elf and his weapon to the floor. The wolf dug his claws into the back of Beleril's tunic, drawing a little blood and began to snap at Beleril's head. Straining his neck to look round, Beleril managed to dodge the wolf's lunges at his head, but still he knew he could not hold out against the weight upon his back for much longer, not without a weapon. Unfortunately, Beleril's sword was lying over four feet away and try as he might, Beleril could not move an inch because of the dead weight upon his back.

A little way away, Naelie watched with horror as Beleril was attacked, and for a brief instance, she forgot about her own predicament. She came back to earth with a bump though as the wolf bit fresh into a new part of her leg. Screaming blue murder, she kicked out against the wolf, trying to force it to let go, but it would not budge.

Suddenly, she felt something hard knock against her thigh and looking down, she noticed her dagger still in its sheath. Without saving a moment to think, Naelie whipped the dagger from its tough leather pouch and in one instinctive blow, she sent the blade deep into the wolf's neck. Its eyes stayed wide open in shock and it keeled over onto its side, twitching, its teeth still embedded in her leg, even in death. Shivering all over with pain and terror, Naelie prised the jaws of the creature from her and suddenly felt a fresh stab of white hot pain as she released the pressure upon her leg. She felt herself going light-headed as the warm liquid issued from the wound, staining her pale skirt a livid, poisonous scarlet.

Gazing blearily into the distance, Naelie saw Beleril still trying to fight off the wolf and struggling to reach his sword. Naelie tried to get to feet and try and reach her friend, but she collapsed in anguish. The wolf was showing no signs of remorse but however, once made a slight error. It released the pressure upon Beleril's back for only a brief moment, but enough to allow the elf to get upon all fours and crawl as fast as he could towards his sword. However, the wolf had other ideas, and seeing its prey trying to make a getaway, it pounced again upon Beleril's back with even more force, causing Beleril to collapse once more to the leaf strewn ground. Unfortunately for Beleril, the power of the wolf's jump made him fall a little to the right and strike his head upon a rock with a resounding crack, thus causing him to fall completely unconscious.

Then, suddenly, Naelie saw another figure, Orophin, dart forward and in one swift movement, he sliced the wolf's head clean off where it rolled several metres before finally coming to rest in a hollow. She could see that Orophin had also felled the wolf that had attacked him, which meant that there was only one more wol-

"OROPHIN!" Naelie screamed as she saw the foul creature advancing from behind.

Orophin whipped round and saw the wolf just a second too late to act. As the wolf reared, snapping its long jaws and trying to get a-hold of Orophin's neck, Orophin struck repeatedly with his sword, but the wolf proved remarkably agile and evaded each and every one of Orophin's blows. Suddenly, the wolf set both its huge paws upon Orophin's chest and with a push, bowled the elf over onto the ground below.

As had been with Beleril, Orophin accidentally dropped his weapon, but thankfully, Orophin still had it within reach. Darting out a hand, Orophin made to grab his sword, but the wolf let out a loud bark that startled the elf. Shifting its weight slightly, the wolf managed to place one paw in the way of Orophin's arm, preventing the elf from reaching his weapon.

Naelie, although she was quite a way away from Orophin, knew that she had to try and save him, or at least enable him to reach his weapon. She picked up a rock from the ground and threw it with all the strength she had at the wolf's head. The wolf howled in pain, but its desire for its prey overrode the earnest instinct to attack its attacker. When the wolf did not budge, Naelie threw more stones, desperate in her attempts to force the wolf from Orophin. The wolf, seeing that its internal struggle was about to be lost, made a snap decision and lowered its head towards Orophin's jugular.

Seeing what was about to happen, Naelie gritted her teeth against the blinding pain in her leg, staggered to her feet and ran forward towards Beleril's fallen sword. She grabbed it from the ground as she ran, and upon reaching the wolf praying that her aim would not miss, she raised the sword and plunged it deep into the wolf's thin frame. With a gasp, Orophin rolled sideward thanks to the sudden release of pressure upon his chest just as the sword blade pieced the wolf's stomach and impaled it to the ground, exactly where the elf had been lying moments before.

Summoning the last of her strength, Naelie wrenched the blade from the wolf and kicked it aside with her good leg, before collapsing with combined pain and exhaustion next to Orophin.

"Are you….alright?" he panted, clearly in deep shock.

Naelie nodded. "Yes I think so, mostly. But my leg hurts terribly".

Orophin managed to get onto his knees to inspect the wound. His eyes fell upon the tattered remains of one side of her skirt where the wolf had bitten her and he gasped.

"Alright" he said softly. "I won't pretend this won't hurt, but grit your teeth, ok?"

Naelie nodded and prepared herself for whatever he was going to do. Reaching into his tunic pocket, Orophin, brought out a small pouch and produced a small bottle of clear liquid and a roll of thick cloth. He rolled up what he needed to of Naelie's skirt and tried not to make his shock evident upon his face. From the bottom of her knee to just below the top of her thigh, Naelie's left leg was covered in bite marks. From what Orophin could see, there were only one or two that looked deep, but he knew he needed to ease both her pain and the flow of blood, otherwise it could become serious.

The elf uncorked the tiny bottle and repeated what he had just told her. "Now I need you to keep still for me, ok and remember, grit your teeth".

Again, Naelie nodded to show she had heard and at her response, Orophin poured several drops of the transparent liquid onto her wounds, and flinched slightly as she cried out in anguish as the great stinging in her leg took on new fire. Taking the thick cloth, Orophin wound it around Naelie's leg until all the wounds were covered and then quickly tied it off, producing a make-shift bandage.

"I am sorry for causing you pain, Naelie" he said, "but trust me, what I give you will ease it. Now, can you walk?"

Naelie nodded. "Yes, I think so". Putting out a hand, Orophin helped her to her feet, where she swayed slightly, shifting what she could of her weight to the undamaged leg, and finally, her eyes fell on Orophin's midsection. His tunic was completely torn from the wolf attack and there was a bloody gash across his chest which was bleeding steadily.

"Orophin!" she said suddenly, "What about you?"

Orophin looked down at where she was gesturing and shook his head. "It looks worse than it is" but still quickly dabbed on some of the same liquid he had given Naelie then covered it up with the remains of his tunic, and moved to tend to Beleril.

As Naelie approached and her eyes fell upon Beleril's unmoving form, fear once again gripped her and she clamped a hand to her mouth in shock. "Is he-"

Orophin shook his head after checking Beleril's pulse. "No, he is only unconscious"

"How can we get him back?" Naelie asked. "Should I go back for help?"

Orophin shook his head. "Nay, that would only delay getting Bel to the healers. I shall take him myself, he is no lightweight, but I think I can support him".

With that, Orophin picked up Beleril's form and draping his legs over one arm, Orophin slowly made his way back to Lorien, Naelie picking her way carefully behind him.

As soon as Orophin and Naelie got back into Lorien, they made a beeline for the healer's quarters where all three were admitted immediately. It turned out that of the three, Orophin's injury was the most serious and so the healer insisted upon his overnight stay. She patched Naelie up efficiently and quickly and laid Beleril down in a spare bed where he was still unconscious.

Naelie sat by Beleril's bedside, watching as her friend lay unmoving and constantly fighting off tears.

"He'll be alright come the morning, my dear" said the healer kindly, "he's not too terribly injured, but I'd still like to keep him in here overnight"

A snort sounded from Orophin's bed and both turned to see that the elf had fallen fast asleep.

"Sleeping pills. They work miracles they do! Anyway, your injuries were not too desperate either, my dear" smiled the healer, "not too deep and patched up nicely now, so I reckon you can go home tonight"

Naelie nodded to show she had heard, though her eyes never strayed from Beleril's silent form. The healer bustled away to tend to an elf in the far bed, but minutes later, two elves skidded into the room, both stark white.

"We came as soon as we heard" exclaimed Haldir to Naelie, then turning to the healer, he continued. "How fares my brother?"

"He'll live" replied the healer, "but I shall need to keep him in overnight. I have patched up his wounds as best I can and he is showing good signs of a complete recovery".

Rumil let out a low sigh of relief and made to thank her, but the healer held up a hand and spoke quietly. "I am only doing my job" she said simply. "It is the young one here, whom you should be thanking, for if it had not been for her actions, your brother may most likely have been killed".

She nodded towards where Naelie's attention was focused back upon Beleril and Haldir's eyes widened in astonishment.

"She saved him?"

"It certainly seems so" smiled the healer.

Haldir nodded and slowly made with way over to Naelie and sat beside her. She noticed his presence, though she did not acknowledge it.

"How is Bel faring?" he asked softly.

"The healer says he will be alright" Naelie replied, this time facing Haldir, "but he will have to stay in overnight",

Haldir nodded. "I surmised as much. And how about you?"

"I am much better now than I was" she replied truthfully.

"That is excellent news" smiled Haldir. "Naelie, I want to thank you. If you had not been there, I honestly do not know what would have happened to Orophin, indeed I do not wish to even think about it. I wish I could repay your for what you did today, but I do not know how I could".

Naelie blinked away the tears that her fighting to get out of her, turned her head towards Haldir and smiled. "It was only what any of you would have done for me" she replied. "And if you really want to repay me in anyway, I can tell you honestly you have already done so by my knowing that."

As the night wore on, the healer eventually came again to Naelie. "I think it is time for you to go home" she suggested. "You look very tired, and no good will come of you staying here all night".

"But what if Bel wakes?" asked Naelie.

"If he wakes during the night, I will make you are told first thing in the morning. Go, my child. He will be well cared for here, I promise you".

Swallowing hard, Naelie finally agreed and left the healer's quarters, also accompanied by Rumil who had been practically forced to go and get some rest by his elder brother.

"I apologise for not saying this to you earlier, Naelie" he said as they walked back through the city, "but I want to tell you just how much I thank you for being where you were today. As Haldir said to you, I do not want to even begin to think about what would have happened otherwise".

"And as I told Haldir" replied Naelie. "I only did what you would have done for me."

As soon as both Naelie and Rumil reached their own talans, they found that sleep crept up upon them with immense hast. Haldir however, stayed wide awake, and kept a constant vigil by Orophin's bed throughout the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: None

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Bricta and Beleril who are from my own imagination and therefore are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 9

The morning after the wolf ambush, Naelie awoke at first light. She wandered, bleary eyed into the main room and felt puzzled as she could find no sign of Beleril. Then, it all came flooding back to her. The wolves. The attack. Her injury and Beleril and Orophin's injuries.

"BEL!" she called out to no-one in particular, and in a hurry, she pulled on some clothes, not caring if they were clean or not, and dashed out the door, all thoughts of washing exempt from her mind.

Naelie, hurtled through Lorien as fast as her legs could carry her, her mind on Beleril's welfare, and that only. She passed several surprised looking elves on her way but she paid no heed to them and arrived minutes later, out of breath and panting slightly at the healer's quarters.

She knocked softly on the door and was most thankful to find that the healer was up and around. The door opened and Naelie blurted out her question, a little more abruptly than she intended.

"How are they?" she asked. "How is Beleril?"

The healer did not reply at first, but instead gazed down at Naelie, a somewhat amused expression upon her face.

"What" asked Naelie, perplexed. "Have I said something comical?"

The healer gave a merry chuckle and shook her head. "Nay. I just find it extraordinary that you would get up so early. But, please, come in, my dear. They are both doing very well and their progress is most pleasing. However, I must ask you to be quite quiet as they are both sleeping".

Naelie nodded her agreement and stepped quickly over the threshold, closing the door slowly behind her. They were in a long hall with several rooms off to the left and a staircase at the end. The healer herself lived among the patients, though in a separate section to the right of the hall and her supplies were kept in a storage room on the second floor.

The healer, instead of taking Naelie to see Beleril right away, steered her to the right hand side into her own quarters.

"I appreciate that you wish to see your friend" said the healer kindly. "But I must ask you to have a warm drink before you do, you'll feel more up to it then".

Naelie tried protesting that she must see Beleril, even if it was only to sit by his bed and watch him sleep, but the healer gently, but firmly refused point blank.

"There would be no use in you going in there with nothing to settle your stomach, young one. Trust me".

Naelie eventually agreed and allowed herself to be led away to the healer's kitchen where the healer herself brewed a mug of steaming fruit cordial which Naelie drank gratefully. Eventually, once dawn had passed away, the healer allowed Naelie to go and sit by Beleril's bed, as long as she was quiet. Only twenty minutes had passed since Naelie first arrived at the healer's, but to Naelie herself, it had seemed like many hours. The painful thoughts of Beleril's state of health, making her feel anxious and the time to crawl by.

As she padded softly into the room, she first noticed that Haldir had fallen asleep at the foot of Orophin's bed, and both were now sleeping peacefully like elflings.

She made her way swiftly to the seat beside Beleril's bed which she had perched herself the night before and sat quietly, her hands folded in her lap, waiting patiently for him to awake. It was not long before he blinked a couple of times and slowly turned his soft grey eyes towards her concerned face.

"Naelie?" he whispered a little thickly.

She nodded. "Welcome back, Bel. How do you feel?"

"Like my head is separate from my shoulders" he sighed. "What happened? All I remember is the wolf and then someone making me drink something and I'm blank after that?"

So, Naelie quietly related what had happened after he had been knocked out and explained the feeling in his head was due to the herbal medication the healer had made him drink. Beleril listened, some words passing him by as he tried to make sense of it all, he got the gist however.

"How is Orophin?" he asked, concern reflected in his eyes.

"The healer says he's doing very well" she replied. "You just concentrate on getting better now, and let the healer do the rest".

Beleril nodded. "Not much else I can do" he said with a hollow laugh.

Later that evening when the healer was sure Beleril had made sufficient progress, she allowed him to go home with Naelie. However, it was a few more days later before Orophin was discharged.

"I don't know if I could have stood another hour in there" Orophin sighed, bent over a bowl of broth back at Haldir's talan with his two brothers.

"You're better now, Oro" said Rumil, "and that really is all that matters, not how long you stayed there".

Orophin gave a grateful smile and proceeded to finish the rest of his broth before the three retired to their own talans.

Two days before Orophin was due to return to border duty (Galáril had been filling in Orophin's post during his absence, much to the irritation of most of the Galadhrim, for none of them could stand Galáril's short fused temper for very long, and were more than glad to hear of Orophin's speedy recovery), some disturbing news came from Galadriel herself and she assembled a meeting with the leaders of the Galadhrim.

"The wolves have passed away to the North" she informed them once they were all assembled upon her flet, "but now there is a rumour passing through our lands of wildmen clans that have crossed the borders of the surrounding areas, and are destroying everything in their path."

Upon seeing the deep disconcertion that had fallen upon the Galadhrim, Celeborn spoke up.

"We are concerned they will try and enter Lorien, therefore, we are asking for a group of scouts to scour the areas around and outside Lorien's borders to see if they can find any hints that they have crossed into our land."

Haldir nodded to show his understanding as to the seriousness of the situation. "Who do you wish to perform this task, my Lord?"

"I will leave that up to you to decide, Haldir, though I will say this" Celeborn continued. "I suggest that no more than ten scouts should go, as we will need to keep border duty up still".

Again, Haldir nodded his agreement. "I shall attend to this right away. My lord. My lady" he ended, bowing to each in turn. And then turning quickly upon his heel, he hastily departed the flet.

Haldir chose his two brothers to go with him, though Orophin had a little trouble persuading Haldir that he was up to the duty. Beleril offered his assistance as well as other Galadhrim elves. However, the biggest surprise came that evening when Naelie asked if she too could go with them.

"This is a most serious situation, Naelie" he repeated, having told her this several times in the past hour. "I am not completely certain you would be entirely safe".

He chose his words tactfully, in an attempt not to hurt Naelie's feelings. For one part of himself, he was concerned that she would not be safe, after all, the mission was not risk free by any means. But what was troubling him most was the fact that she had not completed her weapon training yet, and if the time came that she would need to fight, Haldir wasn't completely sure if she was ready yet.

"Ah" said the niggling little voice in the back of his mind. "But she dealt with the wolf right enough."

Haldir sighed. This was true, but still, he could not help himself from having serious doubts. So, after promising Naelie he would think it over and biding her a quick farewell, he made his way swiftly to his lord and lady's talan to present his dilemma to them.

They reacted just as they hoped they wouldn't.

"Haldir" said Celeborn thoughtfully, after Haldir had finished speaking, "I said it was up to you to decide, did I not?"

Haldir nodded. "Yes, my lord".

"Therefore, it is your decision whether or not to let Naelie accompany you on this duty."

"Forgive me, my lord" Haldir continued, almost pleadingly, "If she comes with us, I will continually fear for her safety, as well as the others. She has not yet finished her training either and I have to admit, I think that her lesser knowledge of combat techniques will be a severe disadvantage, both to her and to those around her".

Celeborn sighed deeply and rubbed his temples, something he tended to do when he was thinking something over very carefully. Finally, he voiced his opinion again.

"Haldir. To me, it would seem she has already proven herself worthy of combat the other week. If it were left up to me, I would give her a chance of helping out in whatever way she can. But, it is not up to me, it is up to you to decide who goes with you, and who stays."

Now it was Haldir's turn to look incredibly contemplative. "I do agree with you my lord" he said slowly and carefully, "however, I cannot help thinking she will be in grave danger in such a hostile situation".

Celeborn nodded. "I can understand your concern, Haldir. But with ten Galadhrim elves around her, she would be as safe as she could ever be, even out on a scout".

Haldir, finally resigning not to persevere with the discussion, gave his thanks and bade a hasty, but polite retreat from the talan, mulling everything over in his already overcrowded mind as he went.

The very next day, the chosen Galadhrim met at the bottom of the Great Mallorn, all equipped with polished and sharpened weapons. Naelie was also there, standing nervously with Beleril. After he had been to see lord Celeborn the night before, Haldir had made a snap decision to agree to take Naelie along with them, for despite his original doubts. If Celeborn had no qualms, then neither did Haldir for he revered his lord and lady with all his heart and trusted their word and opinions, even if they did occasionally differ from his own.

"Alright" called Haldir from the head of the group. "You all know why I have called you here today and to get to the point, if anyone wishes to back out of this scout, then do so now".

No one moved or spoke, so Haldir continued. "We will travel together up to the borders, which should take us the fair part of today. We will then camp for the night and some of you will keep lookout around the area on shifts. Then, tomorrow morning, we shall split off into two groups and scour the surrounding areas for any signs of the wildmen. Is that understood so far?"

Those around nodded and murmured their confirmation, and so Haldir rounded off the orders. "You are to go into every village you find, but be sure to wear your hoods in any human contact, for some are not so friendly towards our kind. Ask whomever you see in the village, though do not go knocking on doors, unless someone from the village directs you to do so. We shall meet back at the camping clearing in the evening, camp for a second time and then head back to Lorien, with any news we may have".

As Haldir paused, an elf raised his hand.

"Yes, Elured?"

"What do we do if we are ambushed?"

Haldir sighed inwardly. "You fight, Elured".

"I'm sorry, sir, I am afraid you misunderstand me. How will we let the other party know if we have been ambushed".

Haldir nodded his apology. He may be firm and tough, but he was gracious enough to apologise when it was required of him. "If the battle is not too serious, send up blue sparks from the kits and flint in your packs. If it is serious and there are more than one or two grave injuries, send up red sparks. Is that clear now, Elured?"

Elured nodded gratefully and thanked Haldir for his thorough answer.

There were no more queries after Elured's and so, the scout party set off only minutes later. The path leading out of the city gradually narrowed as they walked a greater distance from the heart of Caras Galadhon.

Soon, they were deep in the woods of Lothlorien, moving swiftly along the now miniscule path, not stopping for anything that was not dire, such was their need to reach the borders before nightfall. The trees grew tall and thick around them, their leaves hanging down over the party, some bushing their heads as they passed by. The pale morning rays filtered through the gaps between the leaves, casting patterns of light that danced and frolicked across the leaf strewn ground.

Finally, they reached the borders, just after sundown, much to Haldir's gratification.

"Good" he sighed, sinking down on a tree stump. "I was concerned we weren't going to make it".

"Captain?" piped up an elf, emerging from the trees to join Haldir.

"Yes, Tadrien?" Haldir replied, taking a swig from his water skin to refresh himself.

"May I be so bold as to ask…" the Galadhrim healer paused for a moment, not wanting to appear tactless or doubtful of his Captain's actions. The healer, having careful chosen his choice words, continued. "May I ask for the reason as to why you wished to reach the borders before nightfall so urgently?"

"You wanted to walk round the woods in the dead of night, Tadrien?" Haldir asked, managing to suppress a smirk and appear deadly serious.

"Oh, no sir...I just...I mean...well, that is-" Tadrien suddenly looked rather flustered, afraid he had just offended his Captain in some way.

"Don't look so worried" smiled Haldir. "You haven't insulted me in any way, if that is your belief."

Tadrien looked more than relieved to hear this revelation and relaxed considerably.

"I needed to get us to the borders before nightfall, Tadrien, because I do not wish anyone to be on the ground whilst there is danger of wildmen around the area. It would be prudent, especially when some of us will are off our guard."

Tadrien nodded to show his understanding. "So, we'll be using the old flets then?"

"Yes" Haldir replied. "In fact, I have a favour to ask of you".

Tadrien's favour turned out to be clambering up to the two flets high above the ground and letting the rope ladders down for both Naelie and the elves burdened down too heavily to be able to move quickly through branches. Tadrien took to his newfound duty like a duck to water. He moved, agile as a wildcat up and through the towering braches and boughs, finally coming to rest upon the desired platform and let down the sturdy ladder.

Look-out shifts were quickly agreed and soon, all those present that weren't on lookout, had settled themselves down beneath blankets to try and catch whatever sleep they could.

Orophin was the first on look-out duty, mainly because he was the most alert at that time. He watched the area as the other elves fell into slumber, and listened to the various sounds of the night. Several times he heard the owl calling out from the depths of the forest and the faint babbling of a nearby brook.

But there was one other not asleep at that moment.

Naelie lay curled up under her blanket, trying her best to slip into slumber. But try as she might, her senses were all wide awake and alert, and slowly, she opened her eyes to observe anything that was happening around her. She saw the midges dancing in the dappled moonbeams that seeped through the leaves above their heads. Then, turning her face slightly, her eyes fell upon Orophin seated near the edge of the flet.

Naelie watched his silent and unmoving figure for over a minute or so and she could not help but notice how incredibly beautiful his chiselled features appeared in the dusky blue of the night. The shadows fell around his high cheekbones, making his skin seem as white as new fallen snow, almost radiating with a soft glow as the moonlight settled upon him. She watched his stare, intent on something far in front of him, though Naelie was not sure if he was watching anything, or simply deep in thought. As it was caught by the breeze, his shimmering hair moved gently about his face, and quite suddenly, Naelie felt completely awed and unworthy, almost as though she were seeing an elf for the first time.

Slightly taken aback by her thoughts, she rolled back onto her side and tried to sleep, to forget about him, but after many more frustrating attempts she resigned to the fact that she cannot either sleep, nor remove any thoughts of Orophin from her mind. Finally, she got to her feet and went to sit with him by the edge of the flet, feeling quite furious with herself.

Orophin did not see her approach, but he heard her and turned to greet her quietly. He was truly surprised that she was awake, but nonetheless, he welcomed her company.

"Can't sleep?" he whispered as she sat by him.

She nodded. "Yes. I cannot understand why though".

"Ah" smiled Orophin sympathetically, "that is often the way of things".

Orophin reached into his pack and pulled out a thin wafer of lembas. "Want some?" he asked. "I always eat on duty".

Naelie sighed. "Go on then. Eru knows it might even help me sleep".

Orophin chuckled lightly, broke off two corners and handed a piece to Naelie.

As the minutes slipped by, they spoke of many things, including the 'Rumil and Nadia' topic, which curiously enough, Haldir still had no idea of. Then, suddenly, the conversation on Orophin's part somehow slipped into Beleril.

"You know when you first came here, Naelie, I was surprised that Lord Celeborn allowed you to be permanently live with Bel."

"Why?" asked Naelie, genuinely curious.

"Well, I knew that one day you would grow into a young woman and I couldn't help thinking that a female, living with a male elf could be a tricky situation. But you both seem to have handled it admirably well".

Naelie smiled, understanding Orophin's comment. "I know what you mean, Orophin" she said, "though I guess it never crossed my mind when I was younger. But, I don't think the situation would ever present any problems as I really only see Beleril as a wonderful friend, perhaps even an elder brother, but never anything more".

Orophin cocked his head to one side as though in thought, then spoke up again. "That is wise of you, Naelie, and for my part, I do not think the situation would ever become troublesome".

The conversation soon turned to other topics, and eventually, Naelie slipped back to her corner, to try and sleep once more. Orophin, in the meanwhile, found he could not sleep. Naelie's words had confirmed what he had long believed about her and Beleril. But still, as the night wore on, Orophin could not help himself pondering about Beleril's possible own true feelings towards Naelie.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I would like to take this time to thank both Idhrenwen and Becky who have been invaluable during the writing of this final chapter. Their beta-ing skills are superb and they picked out things that I could have never have hoped to spot. So, to both of you, I raise my goblet and say "Cheers! Thanks a million and although this will sound cliched, I simply could not have done it without you". Ta, chucks! :) HUGE HUGS!!!!

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Well, this is it. The final chapter of Little Swan in which we find out what happens in the end. Boy, I'm glad I finally finished this - it's been a hard work, I can tell you! But I'll be sad to leave it behind, all the same....anyway.....What will happen to Beleril and Naelie? Will any wildmen be discovered on the scout? Read on to find out. :)

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**Title**: Little Swan

**Pairing**: None

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Angst / Drama

**WARNING**: Violence

**Beta**: Becky and Idhrenwen

**Cast: **Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs

**Disclaimer:** I own no-one from _The Lord Of The Rings. _All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Seòras, Naelie, Bricta and Beleril who are from my own imagination and therefore are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

**Feedback:** Yes please! We "aspiring" authors thrive on the stuff.

**Timeline**: Before the War of the Ring. Not following movie-verse.

**Summary**: After her mother's brutal execution, young Naelie and her father are left to piece their lives back together. But the outside world, will not allow this.

Chapter 10

It was not long after Naelie had slipped back to bed, that Orophin did so too. Fatigue was beginning to slowly creep up upon the elf and he soon, he even had some trouble keeping himself awake through nibbling of lembas. He has glad therefore that his post was quickly taken over by an elf named Fiadaer, and Orophin lay down upon the flet, grateful for whatever time for slumber remained.

Orophin felt as though he had only just lain down to sleep when he was being shaken awake by his brother.

"Come on," urged Haldir softly, "time to get going".

Orophin cursed Haldir inwardly for his abrupt and unwelcome wakening call. But after a sip from his water skin and a bite of lembas, Orophin found himself feeling considerably better.

"Alright," said Haldir moving to stand in front of the seated elves. "As I explained yesterday, we are to divide into two separate groups and search the area for any sign of wildmen. Remember, if you come across a village, you may enter it, but do so with caution. And for Elbereth's sake, be sure to keep your hoods up. Ask questions to whomever you will, but please remember, do not knock on doors unless specifically directed by a member of the village."

The elves around him murmured their assent and soon they returned to their own occupations of re-arranging their packs.

Elured, the elf who had questioned Haldir back at the great mallorn, approached his captain and said something in a hushed voice. Haldir nodded and spoke again to those assembled.

"Forgive me," he said, causing them to turn around and listen. "I forgot to mention that anyone wishing to refill their water skins may do so at the brook through the east trees." Haldir paused and gestured the direction, then continued. "Only two of you may go at the same time, for I do not wish to alert anything that may be in the woods to our presence".

"But Haldir, we walk without sound. How would that alert anything?" said Rumil.

"Yes Rumil. But you do not speak without sound" replied Haldir seriously.

"Oh." Rumil fell silent now that his confusion had been cleared.

Anyone that felt the need to refill their skins, did so both swiftly and efficiently, returning to the flet just minutes after they had first left. Soon, there were no more reasons to stay, and Haldir gave the orders to move out. As soon as the group had reached the very fringe of the forest outskirts, Haldir divided those around him into two smaller groups.

"Fiadaer, Rumil, Naelie and Tadrien. You four come with me. We'll scout to the east, and the rest of you, to the west. Is that understood?"

The elven scouts nodded their understanding and quickly went their separate ways. The scout had begun.

For the rest of the morning, Fiadaer, Rumil, and Naelie kept their eyes firmly open for any tell-tale signs of wildmen, but they found none. There were no tracks, or heavily trodden vegetation. Haldir and Tadrien had gone ahead, investigating the area for any settlements or people that may be able to aid their cause.

Just as Rumil paused for a minute, and took out his water skin to refresh himself, there came two figures on the horizon. Rumil squinted against the glaring sunlight, saw that it was only Tadrien and Haldir and felt most grateful for it, for he was not really in the mood and certainly did not feel he had enough energy for a battle.

"There's a village up ahead," reported Haldir as he approached the trio. "It's not far, about a mile or so from here."

Taking the opportunity, Rumil took a last long draught from his skin and replaced it inside his pack. "Let's get going then," he said, standing up once more.

The village was, as Haldir had correctly estimated, only just over a mile away and the small group reached it quickly as the terrain was fairly easy going. As the company neared the village, Naelie's eyes travelled slowly upwards to the tips of the towering wooden stakes that had been placed around the village to form a kind of protective wall. They finally came to an oak gate, which strangely enough was unbolted. So, upon seeing and hearing no defence on the villagers' parts, they entered the village, taking care to be ever wary. Scattered around were sturdy wooden huts of varying sizes. As they passed one particularly small one, Rumil couldn't help but smile as he noticed three young children playing some sort of tag game with a branch outside.

They continued walking in an attempt to find someone to ask their questions. But strangely enough, most of the village appeared to be deserted. However, as they rounded the corner of a building, they discovered the reason. Small stalls had been set up along the far wall, and there were many people, hustling and bustling around the stands as the traders called out their wares. Suddenly, a young man dressed in a pale brown tunic clutching a melon to his chest hurried by.

"Excuse me sir?"

The man stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. His face was very pallid; a sign that he had recently been a victim of a malady of some kind. His mousy brown hair was cut quite short and very unkempt and his hands shook quite violently as he tried hard to keep a grasp upon the melon. He looked at Naelie with inquiring watery green eyes, as though sizing her up.

"Y-y-yes?" he spoke, stammering slightly.

"We are sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if you have heard or seen about a clan of wildmen in these parts?"

The young man shook his head. "Oi'm afraid oi 'aven't, miss. A-a-a-a-ltho', yer migh' wan' ter ask at the 'ouse up the 'ill, s-s-s-see? There's an old chap 'o lives there. Don't m-m-miss much, 'e don't."

The man pointed in the direction of a quite shabby looking house built at the top of a small hill towards the staked wall. The hand-built chimney had a thin stream of smoke issuing from its mouth and the heads of flowers underneath the windows bobbed their heads in time to the wind's tune.

"Thank –"

Naelie had turned to thank the man for his help, but he had disappeared. Looking through the crowds, she saw him staggering away, still clutching his melon. Shaking her head, she returned to the elves. "What an odd man".

"What did he say?" asked Fiadaer.

"He doesn't know anything about the wildmen, but he suggested we try the house up the hill".

The small group of five soon made their way to the foot of the small hill, and then walked briskly to the wooden front door. No sounds came from inside, and the only clue that anyone was at home was the smoking chimney.

Moving forward, Haldir rapped lightly on the door and stood back, waiting for an answer. They did not have long to wait, for no sooner had Haldir stood back, the door opened to reveal an much older man with short greying hair and patched clothes.

"We are sorry to disturb you, sir," began Rumil clearly, "but we were wondering if you had heard anything about clans of wildmen in these parts".

The man didn't answer. Instead, he gazed, wide-eyed at the assembled group before him.

Rumil looked round at the others in confusion and puzzlement. Then, turning back to the man, he continued. "Is there something amiss?"

At Rumil's words, the man seemed to come back to his senses and he shook his head. "No, there is nothing wrong. But you are elves, are you not? All but you," he said suddenly, looking at Naelie. "You are human, that I can tell".

Haldir's eyes widened considerably at this. He glanced around in concern to see if anyone nearby had heard the man's claims. Thankfully, because of the market ruckus, there was barely anyone around to hear him. Haldir breathed a sigh of relief.

"May we come in?" asked Haldir, in little more than a whisper.

The man, although utterly perplexed as to the reason why elves should choose to visit his house, admitted the group and shut the door quickly behind him. Once inside, they lowered their hoods to expose their gleaming hair and the tips of their ears, as they were free to do so in the company of one who had guessed their identity. Naelie lowered her hood, though she had no need it made her feel more comfortable.

"Would you please bolt your door?" Haldir requested his face grave.

Slightly disconcerted, the man did as Haldir asked and then moved over to the fire to check the small pot of broth that was simmering above the logs.

"Please" he said, moving away from the flames. "Sit".

Naelie and the elves sat upon the vacated chairs. Once comfortable, Naelie took the opportunity to observe her surroundings.

The walls were all wooden, but sturdy and built well. The floor was covered in a thin woven cloth with a few animal rugs upon the floor. The walls were adorned with the pelts and heads of various animals including deer and rabbits. The man, Naelie decided, was most certainly a hunter by trade. The house itself was one levelled and also consisted of only one room, although the man's sleeping and washing quarters were not screened from view, which meant that he most likely lived alone.

The man also proved to be a most gracious host, for he offered his visitors a warming berry cordial, which they accepted gratefully, having lived only on increasingly stale water for almost two days.

"May I ask how you knew we were elves?" asked Tadrien finally, setting down his steaming goblet on a nearby table.

The man nodded and sat down after ladling some cordial into his own goblet. "When I was a small boy, my parents told me tales of your kind. My mother used to tell me in great detail about you and your appearances – especially eyes. She used to say that 'the eyes of a man shine with the rays of the sun, but if you watched the eyes of an elf, you could see their joy as starlight that dances and frolics from inside their very being'"

"Your mother was very wise then," replied Tadrien and then added thoughtfully. "She knows of things that most of your kind have long forgotten."

The man nodded. "She possessed great wisdom indeed," he replied with a slight smile. He took a sip of his cordial and continued. "What is it that bring you to our village?"

It was Haldir that spoke. "We have heard tell that clans of wildmen have crossed the borders of your land. Have your heard also of this rumour?"

The man rubbed his forehead for a few seconds, as though thinking deeply before replying slowly. "Yes, I did hear something of that from a man down at the market. Seems they have settled north of our borders just west of here, somewhere near the mountains."

"Settled?" Fiadaer raised a brow.

The man shrugged. "Or so I have heard," he said. "We have heard no word of any damage caused by them, though someone came to our village and informed us they had witnessed a wildman encampment. Though the man hadn't ventured close enough, to be entirely sure. The signs were all there; however, roughly assembled huts and burnt ground were the two that he could clearly see from far off".

"Have you or your village had dealings with wildmen before now?" asked Haldir.

The man stiffened for a few seconds, bit his bottom lip and gazed off into the distance. Looking on, the elves were certain they could see the beginnings of tears welling up in the corners of the man's eyes, but he blinked them away as soon as he sensed them watching him intently.

"Only twice," replied the man, slightly thickly. "The first, when I was just a young man. We managed to fend them off without much loss, but the second-" He hesitated at this point, as though trying his best to either not let something slip, picking his words carefully, or else the topic was extremely sensitive for him.

Those gathered around at that time, could sense clearly his inward distress, and they waited patiently. Finally, the man felt able to speak again and did so, though his attempt to masquerade his woe did not deceive those listening. They could sense the pain as he spoke of his past experiences and see the torment that was reflected in his eyes.

"The second," he continued, "was the most terrible experience of my life. You see, once I had a wife and a daughter. My wife was killed a while before this, in circumstances I do not wish to speak of at this moment. But, after my wife's tragic death, I was left alone with my child and given all the responsibilities of a woman as well as a man. I had to care for her needs, more than ever before. But I did not care, for she was mine, and I was hers." The man ended with a ragged breath, as though relating these past event was both physically as well as mentally painful for him.

Haldir suddenly spoke up. "If you feel unable to tell us of these events," he said, both softly and kindly to the man, "then you must not feel pressured to do so. Understand that with us, you are under no obligation."

The man shook his head. "No," he said, louder than he intended. "I will tell you of this, for I feel I need to."

Taking a long draught of his steaming mug, the man continued. "Then, on one night, my daughter came to me, woke me and alerted me of the fires that were blazing in our village. I knew, by the sounds of the bloodthirsty, wild voices and the sight of the ravaged village that we were even now in the middle of a siege. I took my daughter and ran from the house. It was only seconds after that; our house went up in flames. And, just when it seemed things could get no worse, we without warning had a few wildmen tailing us. I don't know how far or long I ran, but soon we reached the woods just beyond our borders. I hid my daughter there; foolishly thinking she would be safe, then I ran back and fought the wildmen as best I could. I killed one, but I was struck unconscious before I could fell the other. Later, when I awoke, I found that I was completely alone. I ran back to where I had hidden my daughter, clinging to the vain hope I had that she may still live-"

Caught off guard again by a fresh strike of grief, the man hung his head and shuddered as he fought back the wave of anguish that was threatening to engulf him. Again, those listening sat and waited with patience and great sympathy clearly evident in their eyes.

The man roughly wiped away the dampness of his eyes with the back of his hand, and drawing a long breath, he persevered with his tragic tale.

"I soon reached the clearing," he said, his voice thick with suppressed emotion, "I searched my daughter's hiding place and found no trace of her. I tried to call out, but I was in too much pain to create more than a faint whisper. Finally, I found what remained of my daughter – a thin piece of her clothing." He chanced a look up at his listeners and saw the shock upon their faces, and recognized the deep sympathy they felt for him. Then, summoning what remained of his voice, he stammered out his final words to them. "It is all I h-have left of her now."

As though finally bowled over by the towering wave of agony, the man crumpled beneath it and sobbed openly into his cupped palms as though his heart would break.

The elves glanced at each other, completely unsure of what to do. Naelie, however, did not look up. Her ears were tingling with the man's words. Her heart raced in her chest, the blood pounding in her ears like thundering drums of war. It couldn't be. Her father was dead; she knew that. Shaking herself violently, she pushed away the thoughts. It was impossible, absurd even to think such a thing.

Looking up, she watched for a second as the man wept, and taking a deep breath, she left her seat and went to kneel by him.

"Sir," she whispered to him, "may I do anything to help you?"

Still not raising his head, the man shook his head. "No" he replied, his voice muffled with the combination of thick material and tears. "No one can help me now."

Realizing that she could not persuade him to raise his head, she spoke softly to him. "Sir, what is your name?"

To her surprise, the man looked up. "My name?" he repeated.

Naelie nodded.

"It is Tristram," he replied solemnly.

Naelie's heart sank, but she nodded in thanks and returned to her seat. Her throat felt tight, and her hands shook as she seated herself. She berated herself mentally for her idiocy. How could she have thought it could have been so? It must have been a coincidence. Yet, there was something about the way he spoke, a softness that stirred some recollection in her. She gazed intently at him for a few seconds and suddenly, the word came out of her mouth even before she was prepared for it.

"Father?"

Suddenly, the room felt cold, stiff and unwelcoming as the man looked up sharply.

"What did you say?" he asked, stunned.

Naelie swallowed hard and looked determinedly at her knees. "Forgive me," she replied. "I meant not to say that."

The man glared at her, his gaze cold and stern. "How dare you" he hissed through clenched teeth. Naelie did not move her gaze to the man, a sudden feeling of fear creeping into her veins, chilling her blood as she registered his icy, hard and angry stare.

Suddenly, before any of them were prepared for it, the man leapt to his feet, and his once welcoming grey eyes were now tinged with a hint of malice. "GET OUT!" he yelled, striding over to the door and flinging it open with such force that it bounced off the wall.

Naelie froze, looking up at the elves who were all now on their feet, putting up their hoods once more and preparing to leave upon his request. She followed suit, now loathing her actions. As she stood and made her way over to the door, she looked up at the man towering above her. "I am truly sorry," she said, plea in her voice.

**"OUT!"**

Like a hunted rabbit, Naelie scampered from the house and flinched as the door slammed and bolted. Tears spilled from her eyes as she ran for solitude. Shuddering, she sank down upon a boulder, trying in vain to control her spiralling emotions. A gentle hand closed upon her shoulder and turning round; she saw Haldir's understanding face.

"I am sorry," she said meekly. "I did not mean for that to happen."

"Naelie," Haldir said kindly but firmly, kneeling in front of her. "You called that man your father. Why?"

Naelie swallowed her tears and forced herself to look Haldir in the eye. "For a moment back there, his tale seemed to fit that of my own. It seemed so right, and then suddenly so wrong".

"Yet," continued Haldir, "he gave you a name different from the one you knew?"

Naelie nodded. "But it is impossible," she said finally. "I am so sorry."

Then, a voice, barely a whisper spoke up from behind them. "You asked him his name?"

The elves all whipped around, finding themselves face to face with an old woman, leaning upon a knobbed walking stick. Her hair was wispy and whiter than the purest snow, and she was dressed in browns and greens and clutched a mottled shawl about her thin neck. Though quite thin, she did not seem unhealthy, even for an old woman. She looked upon the assembled group with beady, knowing eyes, black as a raven's wing, and waited patiently for their answer.

"I did," replied Naelie, stunned by the woman's abrupt appearance. "What of it?"

"What did he say his name was?" the woman queried, seemingly indifferent to the elves' presence.

"Tristram," replied Naelie. "Why?"

"Do you know what the name means, young-one?"

"No, I do not." By this time, Naelie was extremely confused, yet eager to hear more. There was something about this old woman. Naelie regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. Although this stranger appeared kindly, Naelie got the somewhat unsettling feeling that she knew something they didn't, almost as though she was hiding something from them.

"It means 'sorrowful'," explained the woman. "You see, young one. Many years ago, he was the victim of a terrible calamity. First his wife was executed, charged with several crimes, some of which she did not commit, then he lost his daughter in a raid. His grief almost killed him, but we managed to make him see the good in life again, yet he refuses to forget either of them." She gestured to the ground outside the house where two bluebells were lolling lazily in the breeze. "They were planted there, a week after he returned," she said. "He looks after them every day, and ne'er have they withered. See? One for his wife, the other for his daughter".

"So, if he changed his name," Naelie said, her sudden excitement clear as tolling bells in her voice, "what was it before?"

"Seòras," replies the old woman. "It means 'earth-worker'."

Naelie's eyes widened. "Father." she whispered.

The old woman smiled. "Yes, I surmised as much, young one. I knew you when you were only a small child, and even now, you still hold the same spark for life in your eye that your mother had."

Naelie stood deep in shock, as did the elves. Haldir stared, wide-eyed at the woman as though in awe of her wisdom.

Then, without warning, Naelie rushed back up the hill and hammered on the door. From inside, a low, angry muttering could be heard and seconds later, the door was flung open.

Upon seeing the man again, Naelie lost all sense of reasoning and flung herself about his waist. "Father!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Seòras grabbed Naelie about the wrists and wrenched her roughly from him. Looking up, he stared at her, his eyes wide and livid with rage. "My daughter is dead!" he snarled. He turned his attention to the old woman who was still standing nearby. "What have you been telling this young woman, Armes? "

"Simply your true name," Armes replied simply. "I may be old, Seòras, but I am no fool, nor am I blind to the truth. She is your daughter, Seòras."

"She cannot be," he cried, his voice shrill with fury. "My daughter is dead. I found her ripped clothing. Dead, you hear me? DEAD!" With the last shout, he slammed the door once again in Naelie's face and bolted it, leaving her to sink down upon on the steps and finally to dissolve into floods of tears. Rumil and Fiadaer hurried to comfort her, while the old woman stared stony faced at the bolted door.

Beside her, Haldir and Tadrien looked on in amazement and bewilderment. Was the woman really speaking the truth? Suddenly, it seemed plausible and yet, still altogether impossible.

"He will believe, young one," Armes assured Naelie, still keeping her distance.

"How can he?" Naelie sobbed.

"Try again," the old woman urged her to stand. "When you were in there, did he mention your name at all? Did you tell him your name?"

"No, I did not."

"Knock on the door again and tell him it is you. Shout if you will, tell him your name and I promise, he will believe".

Spurred on by Armes' assurance, Naelie stood and called out fretfully to him, pleading for him to believe her, but still there was no sound from inside. Naelie was almost ready to give up when the old woman joined in on her behalf.

"You daughter is here, Seòras. She is, and you will believe it. Do you want to lose her again?"

Finally, the door opens slowly, and those outside held their breath in hope. In the wooden doorframe, Seòras stood, his face tear-streaked and gazing down at Naelie, wonder in his eyes. "What did you say your name was?" he asked slowly, yet unsurely, almost certain he would wake up from a dream at any moment.

"Naelie," she said, breathless from her yelling.

"Oh Valar!" he murmured softly, tears beginning to flood down his face. Bending down, he placed his hands upon her shoulders, as though checking she was really there and not some strange hallucination. "It's you. It really is you!" With a joyful cry, he embraced his daughter tightly and wept openly about her neck.

The elves look on happily and smiling silently, the old woman turned to go back down the hill to her own home. Seeing the woman depart, Naelie called to her to wait and hurried down the hill after her.

"I cannot thank you enough," Naelie told her, her voice ringing with elation. "If you hadn't been there when you were, my father and I may never have set eyes upon each other again."

The woman smiled gently and placed a kind hand upon Naelie's shoulder. "My child," she replied throatily, "it was not because of me, that this came about, it was the truth you felt in your heart. Hold onto that, my child and you can never take the wrong course."

Then, placing a kiss upon Naelie's forehead, Armes departed with a smile and made her way back to her home.

Accompanied by several other elves, Beleril approached the group quietly using light, barely perceptible footsteps. When he arrived, Beleril noted Naelie embracing a townsman and realized she had found her father. At that moment, the young elf felt a great ache pierce the very core of his heart.

"Naelie?" he asked uncertainly.

Looking up, Naelie saw the pain in Beleril's face which caused all her joyous and happy thoughts to seem strangely insignificant. Her smile faded from her face and her legs felt suddenly numb. Gazing up into the elf's sorrowful face, she felt her eyes beginning to well over. Forgetting everything for one brief second, Naelie rushed up to him, threw her arms about his neck and sobbed as though her heart would break.

"Oh, Bel," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Why must this be so difficult? And now ...?"

Beleril wiped away his own tears as he held Naelie tight against his chest. "I know it is hard, Naelie," he replied, "but I think we both know what must happen." Despite his brave words, Beleril had to swallow hard to prevent himself from crumpling under the immense pain he was feeling. His heart was hammering against his chest, causing the emotive ache to worsen still.

"But you've been like my brother, Bel. I just can't bear to let you go!" Naelie collapsed against him, crying hard as fresh new tears made their appearance. "It's so unfair!"

"Some things are never fair, Naelie, Naelie" he whispered to her. "But as for letting me go, well, that would be impossible. I will be with you always in your mind and heart, and I will make sure to visit you often."

At this, Naelie's sobs seemed to soften, and she lifted her head from his shoulder to look him in the face. At the corners of her mouth, there was the faint hint of a smile.

"Really? You'll visit me?"

Beleril laughed gently. "Why, of course I will. You didn't think I would let you leave us forever, did you?"

Naelie face broke into a wide smile, and she began to weep again. But this time, they were tears of joy and not of grief. Bending down, Beleril kissed her on the cheek and stepped back as Haldir and Rumil stepped forward.

"You wish to stay then?" asked Haldir with a kind smile, and though his eyes too were glistening with tears, he fought to prevent them from spilling over.

"I do," Naelie replied. "I have lost my father once before, I cannot do so again. But Haldir, I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me."

Haldir chuckled. "There is no need to thank me, Naelie. Just make sure you keep practising with your sword. You never know when I may show up to test you!"

Now it was Naelie's turn to grin. "I will make sure I do then!"

Haldir nodded, then bending down, he embraced Naelie warmly. Rumil then stepped forward, a few tears trickling down his cheeks not making any attempt to hide his true emotion. "Visit us sometime, Naelie. You will always be welcome in Lorien," he said turning his gaze to Seòras. "as will all of your family".

From behind Fiadaer, Orophin was fumbling with the clasp upon his cloak and as soon as he was unlatched it, he hurried forward and pressed it into Naelie's hand. Looking down, Naelie gasped. Orophin had given her his silver brooch in the shape of an acorn, delicately wrought of the finest mithril with tiny shining emeralds encrusted into the cup.

"Just a gift to remember us by, Naelie," he said, smiling, pleased at her reaction.

"Very appropriate too," came Seòras' low but approving voice. "New beginnings"

"Yes," nodded Orophin with admiration. "You are swift in your knowledge, sir."

Eventually, after the farewells had been said, the elves prepared themselves to leave and Orophin quickly attached a spare clasp to his cloak, lent to him by Tadrien. When they departed, the elves waved farewell to the reunited pair as Seòras hugged his daughter close to him. Looking back over his shoulder, Beleril smiled broadly at Naelie and waved lovingly to her. Seeing this, Naelie grinned and blew a kiss to him and waved in return. Beleril felt his smile widen, but managed to prevent his cheeks becoming tinged with pink. Finally, the elves disappeared around a house, and Seòras looked down adoringly at his daughter.

"Shall we go in?"

Naelie nodded happily and following her father; they retreated inside the house…together once more.

One evening, Beleril stood upon his balcony, gazing out at Caras Galadhon by night, tiny flickering lights of candles glimmering through the dark. He watched as a company of fireflies danced and frolicked above the candle lantern above the balcony ledge, then his head turned quickly as he heard the soft fluttering of wings.

Looking down, he saw the mother sparrow settle herself upon protectively upon her brood and close her eyes contentedly. Family, the young elf thought, smiling to himself was truly a wonderful thing.

The elves had continued scouting the area for several days after Naelie had returned to her father, but had found no evidence to support the rumour of the wildmen settling. So, the scouts had finally returned to Lorien, and Haldir reported back to the lord and lady, both of whom seemed satisfied with the outcome of the scout.

From below, came the sound of cheerful conversation. Gazing over the rim, Beleril saw Rumil and Nadia enjoying a tender romantic stroll through the city.

Haldir had discovered their long kept secret when they had returned to Lorien, and Nadia had been there to greet Rumil with a loving kiss. Rumil had been somewhat concerned as to Haldir's reaction, but to everyone's surprise, Haldir was neither hostile or disapproving. It transpired later that he was just glad Rumil had found an elleth and had stayed with her for longer than a night. And even though that elleth was Nadia, he seemed determined to make an effort to learn to accept her and maybe sometime in the distant future, to befriend her.

Beleril soon returned to his own thoughts, the same they had been all day. Naelie. Although he was deeply grieved that she had left Lorien, he knew he would see her again someday, and possibly soon. Mulling over in his mind, he considered the importance of families and sighed. Although he had no family left of his own, he knew that while he lived in Lorien, his family were his close friends and the glorious world that they resided in. Beleril felt a certain bliss in this knowledge.

Reaching up, and being careful not to awaken the mother sparrow, he took down the lantern. Gently, he blew out the golden flame from the lantern and replaced it, leaving behind only a thin tail of translucent smoke. Then, yawning slightly, Beleril made his way back inside his talan, taking care to close the door quietly behind him. Moving to his bed, he removed his tunic, unclasped his hair and shook it free about his bare shoulders. Then, opening the wooden cabinet beside his bed, he placed the clasp back inside its box and was about to close the drawer, when something caught his eye. Beleril shifted the few books in the drawer to reveal a thin scrap of parchment. Curious, he pulled it from its hiding place and upon seeing what was upon it; he smiled as a tear ran down his cheek. The parchment held a preserved charcoal drawing and beside it was written "Belherril. Thank you for helping me. Love Naelie".

Beleril's throat tightened as he looked upon the drawing. He had to quickly place it back in the drawer though, before his tears fell and smudged it. Quickly, he changed into his nightclothes and slipped under the covers, his mind swimming with memories. He smiled gently to himself. He would see her again. Someday. Hopefully someday soon. Then, blowing out the candle beside his bed, Beleril placed his fair head upon his downy pillow and sighed. Finally, closing his eyes he fell immediately into a well earned and peaceful slumber; to await the dawn that would undoubtedly bring new adventures and new beginnings.

Fin

PS: If anyone is interested, the final word count for the entirety of "Little Swan" is: 33,306!!!!! :) 


End file.
